The other day while waiting for a light to change as I biked home, a guy in a suit came running across the street waving at me. Full of good will towards all humanity having just provided two young Chinese tourists with friendly and accurate directions to the nearest T stop, I decided to wait and hear what he had to say. He asked me if I could do him a huge favor to which I responded that it would of course depend on the nature of the favor. He then launched into a big story about his car having a flat tire which required a $12.95 patch kit that could be purchased from the auto parts store down the street which would allow him, a "professional with Verizon", to pick up his kid from school, and, he hates long stories but if he showed me the car and left some sort of collateral, could I please give him 13$. I just said no, I have to get home, but as I continued biking it occurred to me that his technique was exactly what I expect they would teach at a night school class on advanced panhandling...
Lesson 1: Get a suit. The importance of this can not be overstated.
Lesson 2: State a very specific need and know the exact dollar amount that would fill said need.
Lesson 3: Invoke the suffering of children.
Lesson 4: Assure "the mark" that you are "a professional" and not some sort of panhandler. Having a suit will greatly increase the credibility of this claim.
Lesson 5: Have some sort of corroborating evidence to back up your story, such as a car with an actual flat tire.
Lesson 6: Have a good reason why you, a professional in a suit, do not have access to $12.95.
Ooh, apparently he was so excited to put his new knowledge to work that he couldn't wait around for the all-important sixth lesson. Kind of like Luke leaving Dagobah before completing his Jedi training and getting his hand cut off.
Man, won't I will feel like a jerk if the guy's wallet was in his other suit and his children got taken away due to his tardiness in picking them up. Somehow, despite that possibility, I still slept OK.
1 comment:
We have a lot of homeless/panhandlers here in SF, obviously. I love the pseudo-homeless-destitute teenagers that litter the Haight. They lay there all hungry-looking and needy, but look close: pure-bred dogs, nice guitars, and clean-shaven faces. Please. And those handicapped homeless with the power-scooters? Homeless? Where's he plugging that thing in?
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