I put my money where my mouth is. Last month I donated a car to the SA. It was in perfect running condition w/no repairs needed. The car lot who picked it up told me they had to pay the SA $1200 for it, and that they were selling it for about 1500. (I get a 1100 tax write off). That’s much better than giving money to a bum with a bullshit story!
I ignore the panhandlers, but I’ll shell out for street musicians. That’s good value for my entertainment dollar!
I’m with you, Snooooopy, althought I distinguish between bad ones and good ones. On my way to the bus stop, I used to walk past a guy who played saxophone like a sweet dream. The dollar I’d put in his case was good money for good music at the end of the day, and it was worth every penny. The guy who’d sing along to a boom box and be out of tune while he was doing it, didn’t get a dime.
Sorry if I sound harsh, but I’ve also been burned a couple of times. Years ago, I was in downtown on a cold, rainy day. There was a woman sitting on the street panhandling with a kitten on a leash. I felt sorry for her and the cat, so I gave her a buck. Later, an article in our local independent paper gave the full story. According to the article, she was from a reasonably wealthy family who would take her in and support her, but she was also a drug addict who apparently preferred to be on the streets. I’ve had my share of hard times myself, but I don’t feel obligated to support someone else’s choices, especially if they’re ones I disagree with.
Then there’s the woman on Waikiki who assured me I could trust her to pay me back when she asked for taxi fare to the other side of the island because she was a Christian like I was (that was her first question). I didn’t have taxi fare on me, but I offered her bus fare, $1.20, round trip, and exact instructions on which busses to take. When she wouldn’t accept bus fare, I suspected she was scamming. When she tried the exact same line on me a month later, I knew she was scamming, and I told the local police about her. Sorry, but because she continued to insist that I could trust her to repay me because she was a Christian, if only I’d give her my address as well as the money, to me she was deliberately preying on the gullible faithful, and, to me, they are not fair prey! In my ideal world, good-hearted people aren’t punished for being good-hearted. People who give good sax, however, are definitely rewarded!
CJ
Seems to me that the two big challenges with needing a new kidney are compatibility and the waiting list. What was he going to do with the money? Bribe a doctor to put his daughter at the top of the list? “Purchase” compatibility? He needs a more believeable scam.
I don’t go downtown because I like it, I go there to work. If I had my choice I’d live in the country and chop wood or something. When I was younger I used to burn through money but now I’m following the “millionaire next door” principles- I carry my lunch in a brown paper bag, I never buy coffees, my wife and I shop around, never buy anything unless it’s on sale, clip coupons. It works - when we need money we have it and we may be able to retire in comfort someday. As if I’m going to toss coins to crackheads.
My only reaction to the hordes of beggers is mild amusement that some asshole can set out for the day thinking “I guess I’ll hang around downtown asking total strangers for money.” If they really are that down and out, there are places they can go and things they can do to begin the long road back to a somewhat normal life. I know some of them are mentally ill or devastated by events beyond their control, whatever. I’m not going to spend any time figuring out which are really in need, I can’t tell anyway. I see they do really well with the easily intimidated, old ladies, women with baby carriages.
It takes a little discipline and self-training but, in my opinion, treat them like they don’t exist, don’t even look at them. if they catch you off-guard get away as soon as you can.
Same thing with telemarketers. I have call display, if I accidentally pick up the phone and it’s a commercial call I don’t speak, I just hang up and forget about it.
You’ve got rights too, you’re nothing to these people, make them nothing to you.
I don’t mind giving money to beggars. Sometimes I need all the karma I can get. And I’ve been down and out myself. And I don’t care if they’re gonna use the change to by booze. Been there, done that.
But for the love of God, don’t spin me a yarn. I don’t want to hear your sad tale of woe. Most of the time, it’s bullshit. And if it’s not, it’s still not going to affect mt decision. Cut to the chase and tell me what you want. I got things to do.
I just say “No, thanks” (like they are trying togive ME something). It leaves them a little confused.
We have a ‘regular’ near my job, too. He always has an interesting story and usually some helpers such as a woman with two children and an older man. One of his best scenarios is where he says his car is broken, and he needs $12.50 to get the wife and kids home. See how sad they look over there. Another is to park in the road, blocking the intersection with his hazard lights on and the decrepid old guy inside, and claiming car trouble.
I don’t give to panhandlers for three reasons. One- it’s probably a scam, two- I don’t want to support someone elses drug habit and three, I give to various charities and if someone really needs help I think they should go there.
On the contrary, I’ll pay for a good story. One guy told me he was fresh out of prison because he killed a man for raping his 2-year-old daughter. He was near tears. That was worth a buck.
Boy do I have some good stories about panhandling near (I assume) the OSU campus! I used to work with the homeless in Columbus myself, so I learned a lot. Most of the people working near campus are new in town, or to panhandling, and soon learn campus is a pretty lousy place to beg. Students on average don’t have much money, or sympathy, or generosity. I heard from one guy a technique that actually worked about half the time was to approach groups of frat guys on weekends and straight-up ask for money to buy beer.
The older I get the more annoyed and cynical I am getting about panhandlers. It’s simply amazing how many out-of-work “veterans” feel like sitting at highway exit ramps. Aren’t things like this insulting to real
From working with them, I know damn well that the solid majority are not really crazy, and a lot of them aren’t even really addicts, in the sense that they have zero control over their substance abuse. They’re just fucking lazy bastards. Why should they get a job, when people will just give them money? Frankly, I very strongly resent their freeloading on society, when people like myself bust their ass to avoid getting evicted or their car repoed.
Given this new attitude, I think if the guy in the OP had approached me, I’d laugh in his face, tell him it was the dumbest scam I’d ever seen, and tell him to get away before I kicked his ass.
I gotta admit I just had my shoes shined on the street on my way to work. The young fellow, a self-described “street person” from out of town, looked like a fetal alcohol syndrome case to me, was upbeat and personable. Gave him $3.
When I lived and worked in Manhattan, I would give money to people who sang on the subways. I figured if I enjoyed the entertainment, I might as well pay for it. Since my company moved to beautiful downtown Newark, I rush past beggers as fast as I can. They’re mostly really angry dangerous people who are abusive and tend to spit, especially around the train station, about 1 block from my office.
The only person I’ve given anything to recently was outside a pizza place around the corner from my office. He said something to me as I went into the place, which I ignored, until I realized that he’d actually asked me for food. Food, I can deal with. So I bought him a slice and something to drink. He was very friendly and very grateful. If he’d asked for money for his kid’s kidney transplant, though, I would’ve said no. That’s a major scam.
Scam, of course.
And here’s an additional argument: if his daughter was suffering from kidney-failure - shouldn’t that guy have been with his daughter, to make het a meal, clean the bed-linnen and read stories to her?
That pan-handler with the cat sounds like cat-abuse to me. Pan-handlers with dogs, I do not mind. The dog of a panhandler is in dog-heaven: always close to his boss and he can actually serve his boss in many ways.
I also hate it when panhandlers make me feel guilty about not giving or giving too little.
I have decided to stop giving to panhandlers. Instead, I opened an micro-financing account. I get no interest, but my money is loaned out to Third-World people at a low interest. People (usually women) who need maybe 100 bucks to buy a sewing machine or a couple of hens. With it, they start a tiny business sewing clothes or selling eggs at al local market, thus providing for themselves and their family. It’s nice to know my money actually makes a big difference to people who want to help themselves.
Pan-handlers are bottomless wells.
I’m with you. I often give money, and the request most likely to succeed with me is short and to the point: “Can you spare some change?” If i can, then i do. But a long, drawn-out sob story just wastes my time and irritates me.
One day a guy gave me this long, convoluted tale about having had his car break down, being late for work, needing cab fare to get there, yadda, yadda, yadda. He told me the name of the place where he allegedly worked, and said that if i could lend him $20 he’d make sure he sent me a check as soon as he got to work. His key selling point was that he was NOT homeless or down and out, but had simply had some bad luck today and needed some help out of his jam. He emphasized that he was a member of his local church (i’m an atheist, so i didn’t care about that one way or the other) and that his minister and plenty of other people would vouch for him. I told him that if he was such a pillar of the community, surely he could just call one of his many friends and they would be happy to come and pick him up. I even offered him a quarter for the phone. But he wasn’t interested in that; it had to be $20 for the cab ride.
There are times when i can’t give any money because i don’t have any on me, or because i’m short of cash that week (i’m a grad student, and not exactly rolling in money). When i have nothing to give, i just say “no” or “sorry” and keep walking. I used to offer some sort of excuse, like “I have no change on me” or something, but i figure that the beggar is no more interested in hearing my sob story than i am in hearing his or hers. In the neighbourhood where i live there are three of four regulars on the street asking for money (at least two of these obviously have some sort of psychological problems, most likely schizophrenia in one case), and i’ve given to each of them often enough that they know me, so i feel no need to offer an excuse when i can’t afford to give.
But then, eventually, he’ll want your liver too.
Where will it all end?
Regards,
Shodan
I only give money to one guy in my town. His name is Jerry, and he’s been on the streets here for as long as I’ve been hanging out downtown. (About 14 years now.) He used to buy us beer when we were too young to buy it ourselves.
When I was in college, we had to come up with a project of our own choosing for my political science class. It had to be something that benefitted someone or something in the community. I decided that Jerry was going to be my group’s project. He is a former Army veteran, honorably discharged after Viet Nam. He is also HIV positive, and suffers from PTSD. We got him down to the local VA hospital, and got him into treatment for alcoholism. They got him set up on Medicaid so that he could receive treatment for the HIV. The only condition was that he had to find a place to stay and stay in the alcohol treatment program.
Well, no one is going to rent to a homeless man in this town. I know that for a fact. And the homeless shelters will not let a homeless person use their address to receive mail. So, we set Jerry up with the housing authority through the city. Apparently, because Jerry has been arrested so many times he does not qualify for low-income housing. (There was a point where Jerry was being ‘arrested’ two or three times a month. The cops around downtown know Jerry, and when the weather gets bad, or Jerry seems to be pretty bad off, they will take him in on misdemeanor charges. It sounds bad, but they do it to be nice.) Because of Jerry’s HIV positive status, he takes a trip to the hospital before they book him, so he can be checked out. Then, he spends a night or two in jail, where he gets fed three times a day and has a bed to sleep on. It sounds like a free ride, but it’s still no way to live.
So, Jerry lost his benefits, and has resorted to staying wherever he can. He stayed with me for a couple of nights, because he didn’t have any where else to go, and it was below freezing outside. He occasionally picks up an odd job here or there, sweeping floors or washing the mats at local restaurants. He gets paid in food, which is usually better stuff than I can afford. But whenever I see him, I will give him whatever change I have in my pocket.
I don’t know why I’ve told you all of this; maybe just so you know that there are some people out there that tried to play by the system’s rules and still got screwed. But no, I don’t give my money to just any old crackhead on the street.
There are exceptions to everything. Thanks for the story Skerri.
The OP reeks like scam.
I always give to these people and let them keep the paper. I feel really sorry for them. They’re in the middle of traffic jams, usualy raining or boiling hot, they give you something in return and when I refuse they almost always say a polite “thank you” anyway. I know those do need the coins. I always give them my spare change. Random beggars, on the other hand, get the shit end of the stick. Many are con artists.
I take the subway to and from the Bronx a lot, and see more than my share of beggars. If I gave a quarter to each one who came through the subway cars and/or hang out in or near the stations, I could go through three bucks a night. It’s way too many for me to even see them any more. I’ve seen so many different scams it’s not funny. I will give money to a particularly good singer or musicians, like that gospel trio on the IND and the famous 4 train steel drum guy, but if you come stumbling through the door to a totally captive audience (and that’s a pet peeve of mine, a beggar you can’t get away from is the worst) and start moaning that you have HIV and need money, forget about it. Especially, lady, since the last time I saw you you had cancer and the time before that heart trouble.
Aggressive begging is another problem. What does the proverb say about who can’t be a chooser? There’s a young, relatively well-dressed young guy who used to hang out at the door of my church after Mass; I was unemployed for a long time and had just enough money for the subway fare to get there, and he claimed he was hungry. I took him inside and pointed him to the hospitality table right in the vestibule–tea, coffee, cookies, fruit jiuce. He grimaced and shook his head, looked at me like I was an idiot, said “screw you” and strode out.
They Boston Globe did something once where they had people give money to each beggar in Harvard Square and then followed them around quietly all day to see what they did. 9 out of 10 of them bought booze and drugs.
Oh, man, I HATE the subway panhandlers. Nothing’s worse than some half-crazed, funny-smelling guy shaking down the train car demanding quarters.
And yes, I realize I’m a bad person and make baby Jesus cry for not having compassion, etc. etc.
There are a lot of places in this town to get a meal, a place to sleep, etc. Depending on exactly where in town I am when asked, I’ll give directions to County Social Services, the Salvation Army, Traveler’s Aid, or whatever. Virtually none of these people want to hear about it. They just want money.
In years of following this personal policy, I’ve had somebody take my directions exactly once. He gave me the “need money for a bus ticket home” story, so I directed him to Social Services where he could get a voucher for a ticket to wherever he was going. I was going that way anyway, so while I wasn’t really following him he was in sight all the way. He actually went into the building.
That’s it. The rest of them don’t want to get into a system that can provide them with a chance to get off the streets, because they know they’ll be checked into rehab and whatnot and case workers will track their progress.
They’ve chosen to live that way, and that’s fine I guess. I’m not going to subsidize them.