I head over to Sala Thai on U Street over in Hell (or Washington, D.C., take your pick) to have lunch with one of my good friends that’s graduating (unlike me…kicks self). As we’re leaving, we are greeted/yelled at by a man sitting on the hot cement near Subway. He asks for money. Realizing that just two days prior I had to pick dimes out of a cup to buy water at the corner store, and that this little meal was a late birthday gift, I had nothing to offer, unfortunately. But my friend, always giving, offered her food to the man. He looks at her and asks, “What is it?”
No, negro (and that’s not the n-word I’m really thinking). That’s not how it works. I mean, sure, if she had offered you dog food, or worse, something from Taco Bell, I could see you saying, “You know what, I’m broke, hungry, smell, and living near an overpriced sandwich shop…but you know what, I’m good.” That would make more sense. But to turn down a nice meal, to quote somebody’s cousin (I just don’t want to act like I’m the one saying the word), “Nigga is you crazy?!”
No you’re not crazy. You really just wanted a dollar or twenty to go buy crack. Just a few streets up and a few months prior, I was greeted by some man who has either pop locking or thirty seconds into convulsions ask me for change. I was broke then, too, but I wanted to help the man out. I try to ask the cashier for change for a five. She looks at a stack of singles and says, “No. We don’t have change.” I look at her like the hateful wanch she is and just go ahead and get two snacker sandwiches and give him the food and the change. After walking across the street, I swear that crackhead threw my bag down. If it hadn’t been heavy traffic and I wasn’t rushing to be somewhere, I would have gone back and got that sandwich.
Punk ass crackhead. You know, some people say you need to understand that the lack of opportunity in this city has spawned this nihilistic mindset in many of the area residents, so they in turn look to drugs as a means to escape their problems, blah blah blah. Fuck all that. My minor in sociology means my head understands that. My stomach, which is growling profusely, is telling me I need to go fight that crackhead (I know crackheads can fight, I ain’t never scared). I just gave you almost three dollars and a sandwich. You better eat that shit.
Just like that crackhead who turned his nose up at my friend should have taken the Thai food.
I cannot stand D.C. bums. They’re rude. You give them money, they look at you like you robbed them. They’re crazy!
It’s times like these where I wish I was in New York. There the bums have talent and will perform for you to get money. They’ll open doors for you. They’re more appreciative. And hell, I know they would have eaten that Thai food, then found someone else to help them get high. And they most certainly would’ve eaten that KFC Snacker sandwich, too.