Squeegee Kids

Squeegee Kid Charitable Corporations.

Part 1.

I am in debt to a beggar.

 

This is an interesting story. It is where I feel I should begin but I cannot even imagine how it ties in with either my initial intent of essay or my garden blog; you guys that are reading this can figure it out.

 

In my job I supervise commercial properties and part of those duties include moving beggars and vagrants along. You get to know the regulars and for two years there was one particular guy who would come by bike and he would peddle change from patrons (get it, he was a peddler).  Even as he drove by in the opposite direction he would ask people. Invariably he would approach me and start his spiel before he recognized who I was. At the point he recognized me he would give me an "oh crap" look and he would simply say, "I know, I have to move along."

 

This story is about the various times I met him. The latter was of course the standard way but there were two other times I ran into him where I was wearing a different hat and I was able to respond differently. The first was when I was having a conversation in a parking lot that was not overseen by me. My friend and I were standing beside my truck when he approached. Joe, I have to give him a name, asked for change, recognized me and started to drive away. I stopped him as I reached into my pocket and pulled my change out. It was put to him that he could have all that was in my fist if he took the broom and cleaning stuff in my truck and cleaned the mall while I talked. Well...he jumped at the chance and went on his way. Joe did a great job and he was given the $6.50 in change I had. (He earned $25 an hour if you did the math). Joe thanked me, I thanked Joe and that was that. No long philosophical conversation, undo praise or a game of golf came out of it...rats.

 

The next time was even weirder. It was 4:00 am and I was out shoveling a mall. Joe, walking, started his spiel. I simply told him my spiel back which was I don't give change for nothing. Joe proceeded to ask where I was heading next and, when I told him, he offered me $10 if I would give him a ride to a spot that was on my way. Please note that there was absolutely no embarrassment on his part at the absurdity of coming begging when he had money on him. I did not point it out as he is not my son and I would not take the time. ( My poor sons who I do have the time to talk to). The deal was struck and I trusted him not asking him for a prepayment.

 

Here is where the story gets weird. We got a distance of 5 blocks and were sitting at a light. Nothing untoward was said, there was no indication of why he all of a sudden got tense. Sometimes I have noticed people's eyes glaze over when I go on and on but this was not the case, honestly. Joe said this was good enough and handed me a $20 for my troubles and requested change which I did not have. Before I knew it he was out of the truck and the last thing I heard was "well you can get it to me next time you see me". There was no malice and no feeling as if he was proving a point. It was just normal. Normal, except now I have to carry a $10 bill on me.

 

Well, what do you think?  I can't figure it out and it makes me chuckle every time I think about it. Perhaps though, when I write about the personality of the gun packing corporate squeegee kids you will get a sense of who you would rather run in to.