Panhandling: what works and what doesn't.

In My Humble Opinion
1

I have no hard and fast rules to go by when I deal with panhandlers. Most of the time I can’t be bothered to give spare change, but sometimes I do. All depends on the mood I’m in. And some panhandlers know how to put me in the right mood.

For instance, I’m always a sucker for those guys who hold the door open for you at the post office. What the hell, I figure they’re being courteous and helpful and (sort of) providing a service. I will also often find a little change for somebody who is shabby, shoeless, unbathed and sports the “homeless tan.” Those guys are obviously not faking it. Sometimes they don’t even have to ask me. I’ll just give them something, sometimes stuffing into their hand while they’re asleep. Digging in the garbage for food will also bring an automatic offer from me.

But a panhandler is sure to strike out if they’re obnoxious in any way. Like if they bother me at an ATM, or in line to buy fast food, or any other way that makes me feel distracted and vulnerable. It doesn’t help them if they’re young, big, strong, well-dressed and striding forward aggressively on two legs. I’m not afraid to turn those guys down. They deserve rejection just for being so clueless.

Dopiest of all are the ones who say, “Excuse me…can I ask you something?” As if this “delayed approach” will engage me long enough to make me feel guilty about saying no. Well, I can spot them coming a mile off, and the answer is already no, plus I’m pissed that they’re delaying me.

Or the ones who try to get your attention by shouting “Hey, you!” Well, I don’t even turn around. I’m not “Hey, you,” I have a name, and if they don’t know my name, too bad, they shouldn’t even be calling me in the first place. :stuck_out_tongue: One time one of those jerks, whom I was deliberately ignoring, actually pursued me from behind and touched my shoulder. Another time a guy stood right in front of my house and asked me for “a couple of bucks.” Neither of these morons got anything.

These guys can’t possibly believe such tactics will work, unless the intent is to make the other person too intimidated to refuse.

The booby prize would have to go to the guy who asked me for change while sitting inside his parked car! :smiley:

I have noticed a decrease in aggressive panhandling in recent years, as well as a decrease in total panhandling. Whether it’s the economy or tougher police tactics, I don’t know. But a lot of the younger ones still don’t take rejection very well, like they just can’t believe it when you turn them down. They curse you as you’re walking away and everything. I want to tell them, Hey, why are you mad at a total stranger? Don’t you have any friends you could ask for help? Maybe you should be mad at them, or mad at yourself for not having any friends.

It’s usually the older Black guys who say “God Bless You” even after being rejected. Some of them are so discouraged that they don’t even ask anymore. Ironically, it’s them who end up with most of my spare change.

I did notice a while back that I was giving more change to white guys than to black guys, so now I try to give to all races equally. Affirmative action! :slight_smile:

But the last thing I have to say is, I don’t really ever get mad at panhandlers. I sometimes get mad when a cop or security guard hassles a guy I just gave money to. One time this self-appointed vigilante picked up money off the ground that the panhandler just dropped (that I had just given him), and refused to give it back. He was committing a theft!

It’s guys like that, not the panhandlers, who make me mad enough to write letters to the newspaper.

So, what works with you?

2

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in Burger King and a couple of different guys asked me for money. I was really starting to get pissed. DO NOT interrupt my fucking dinner!

I think before I lived in the San Francisco Bay Area, I was more likely to give people coins. Now that I’m much farther down on the income scale relative to the people around me, I figure I oughta hold on to what I got.

3

Once I was in Old Town Pasadena CA with my tiny girlfriend Emily who at the time that I was completely in love with. We walked along looking into various shops at things we couldn’t afford. It was really a nice night, just turning dark and there were tons of people around.

A few feet outside of Crate and Barrel a large black guy with bad teeth stepped out of a shop. He quickly walked forward with his arms wide well into our personal zone causing us to suddenly stop and back up. He continued skillfully herding us back until we were in a dark, secluded alleyway off the main street. I was scared, I was sure that we were getting mugged or worse but my girlfriend’s presence kept me from doing something stupid. I was paralyzed by her presence.

He smiled his bad teeth at us again and waited in silence for a moment, almost as if he was composing himself before speaking in a high apologetic voice that sounded odd on such a big guy.

“Excuse me, you two look like a very nice couple. I’m a poet and I’d like to tell you some of my poetry. I have two kids at home and I need to feed them. If you like my poetry, all I ask is two dollars from each of you. If you don’t like it, just say so and I’ll leave.”

Before we could answer he launched into a strange shakespear-like poem about love unrequited. I remember a wave of relief cascading through me that we weren’t being mugged by this guy all he wanted was a couple of bucks. Then he told us the second poem…

“Rape, that’s what the police said. White girl. Tiny little white girl. Blond hair. Four fucking years in jail… That bitch, that…” and he continued for minutes with a stream of profanity consisting of a single word repeated over and over (rhymes with punt). Then as he reached the crescendo of his frightening rapist poetry he threateningly backed us further into the alley while flexing and making eye contact with us.

Frightened to death with Emily’s safety in my hands, I pulled her behind me and thrust five dollars into his hand from my pocket. Suddenly his expression changed and returned to that strange Shakespearean ultra-polite demeanor, he flashed his bad teeth at us again.

Unbelievingly, I edged around him with Emily and we walked quickly back out onto the street not-looking back. We reached the street and quickly disapeared into the now dwindling crowd.

A year later I ran into the same guy at the local community college I attended but this time the tables were turned, it was daylight and he didn’t have a hostage to use against me. I refused to back away after being accosted and trembling, my hands balled into fists, told him that his poetry sucked. He backed away confused and hurt, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding.

Sorry for the long post. Damn proactive panhandlers.

4

I tend not to give the guys standing at stoplights a dime (They are ubiquitous in Denver.) I will have brief little stoplight conversations with them though. I don’t like to be one of those people who regard them as invisible. If they are doing something like selling papres, I’ll give them a buck for a newspaper; hell, they’re working!

Last summer, I was heading to work one Sunday morning. I saw a guy standing with a sign that said “I Need Work.” I stopped, asked him if he could paint houses. He said yes, and five minutes later I was questioning my sanity in having an unwashed smelly strange large guy in my truck, going to paint at an empty house. Well, he worked like a dog for ten hours. I bought him lunch, then at the end of the day gave him $100. He practically kissed my feet & said he was only expecting a twenty or so. I figured he worked hard & deserved a fair wage. This was the third time I have given work to homeless guys who indicated they would actually be willing to work for money.

That works for me!

5

Or someone like him. Old Town Pasadena, right?

Maybe it’s not the same guy, but I have seen a man who acts very aggressively and flamboyantly. No poetry, but he kept bothering me at the box office of the UA theater when I was trying to buy tickets. “Scuse me…scuse me…” He even acted as if he were going to approach and touch me, but he didn’t. One curt shake of the head from me, and he was gone.

At first I was pissed and wished the cops would clear him out of there, but then I realized he hadn’t broken any laws.

You see, the vast majority of those guys know when they’d be crossing the line into robbery. And guys who are so poor or friendless that they have to beg total strangers for money generally can’t go strongarm robbery. No gang of accomplices, no getaway wheels, no hideout, the cops already hate them and just need one excuse, etc. All they can do is appear subtly threatening without making actual threats – if they’re going for “intimidation” rather than “sympathy,” that is. And they HAVE to take no for an answer, or they’re TOAST.

The other thing is, Old Town is kind of safe. Lots of witnesses, lots of tourism-conscious cops. Pasadena cops care so much about their city’s image, they barely even tolerate the Black Militants. (But that’s streetcorner free speech, a topic for another thread.)

It’s far more common in Old Town to be panhandled by white teenagers sitting cross-legged against the wall. Pasadena’s like the new Hollywood.

One time outside the Barnes & Noble I saw this guy digging in the trash and offered to take him to dinner at Jake’s. He was pleasantly surprised, but he declined – he wanted to try some Italian takeout he had just found in the trash. I don’t even know if he was homeless – maybe he was one of those urban dumpster scavengers who hate to see food go to waste.

Anyway. PolarField, in the future: JUST SAY NO. The Big Bad Bard will melt away, I promise. :slight_smile:

6

…for proving that not everyone who says they’ll work for food is pulling a scam.

I had this friend who absolutely never gave anything to panhandlers. He “proved” they were all ripoff artists by telling me how, when he was trying to get some day labor to work on his house, he couldn’t find any panhandlers willing to take the job. Carina42 proves that my friend doesn’t know as much as he thought he did!

Hell, I wouldn’t want to work for him either. Actually, he’s no longer even my friend.

Anyone who smashes stereotypes by showing a little faith in their fellow man is a hero in my book! :slight_smile:

7

I don’t mind giving spare change or singles to folks who ask politely. The ones who become aggressive or demanding are another matter, though.

I’m much spookier about this than I used to be. A guy asked me for work so I hired him for cutting grass, shovelling snow, etc. and paid him well. It was okay for a while but went soured VERY badly before too long. He became increasingly demanding and then actively harassing; demanding advances on work not yet done, loans, etc. (At one point he had over $140 advanced against future work, and was still demanding more.)

He was pounding on my door 7 and 8 times per night, waiting for me when I got home, barging into my office, waiting for me in the parking lot at work, etc. It went from annoying to actively frightening. Sadly, I had to take a very tough line with him; got the promised work done–not easy to do–got my “borrowed” tools back and severed the connection. He still tried demanding work from me and I had to tell him to either leave me alone or I’d involve the police.

One bad example doesn’t prove any rule at all but I’m very, very gunshy now.

Veb

8

I do not give money to panhandlers. Ever. There are many fine organizations in this city that exist to give aid to the homeless, the hungry, and the sick. I donate money to a few of them on a regular basis. Organizations like this exist in most cities.

I apologize if I sound heartless, but I lived in Evanston, IL for four years, and I literally could not walk outside my apartment without being harassed by these guys. (Occasionally, it was a woman, but usually it was men.) One time, a guy asked me for ten dollars. I wouldn’t give it to him (I didn’t have ten dollars even if I’d wanted to give it to him). He yelled at me, and followed me back to my dorm on his bike. Only when he realized I was an on-campus student did he back off. Another time, a guy tricked me into giving my name – before I realized he was a panhandler, he smiled at me in a friendly way and said, “Hey, my name’s Ray, what’s yours?” and stuck his hand out, and taken off guard, I said, “Uh, Jan! Nice to meet you!” After that, every time he saw me, which was often because he hung out at the Burger King next to my apartment building, he’d yell out my name as though I were a longtime friend of his, and then he would ask me for money.

When I came out of Taco Bell, a guy standing out there always asked if he could have my tacos. Many panhandlers harassed me after I told them no, telling me I was heartless and that it was really hard to get a job, etc. etc.

I just got really tired of the constant harassment. Even before I lived in Evanston, I had a general principle that it is better to donate to homeless shelters and Christ’s Pantry and the like, than to give change to panhandlers. But my experiences there really hardened me.

Anyway, I do donate money to organizations that benefit the homeless, so I figure I’m doing my part, little though it may be.

9

The only times I have given money to panhandlers have been times when they said they needed it for alcohol or drugs. Being approached constantly with the same handful of lame excuses makes me appreciative when one tells me the truth.

10

Ha, ha! :smiley:

If I were so low in life that I had to undergo the humiliation of asking strangers for money, I’d definitely want to be drunk or high as much as possible. “Liquid confidence,” you know.

Admitting it doesn’t decrease your chances of getting a quarter from me.

11

The Drag, in Austin, is often dotted with those white teenagers sitting crosslegged against the walls and asking for spare change. I usually ignore them, though I always try to give money to street musicians.
One guy, however, impressed me. I was waiting at a crosswalk when a young guy walked up to me and said,“Hi, I’m Dave and I’d like to be your designated panhandler. If anyone else asks you for money today, you can say 'No, I already took care of Dave.”
Since I thought he was funny, I said sure and reached into my pocket for whatever few coins I happened to have there. I think Dave’s total take from me came to something like nineteen cents, so I hope his act worked with other people.

12

LOL! Have you ever seen those guys with signs that say “Why Lie, I Need Beer” & such? I have forked over a buck or so to those guys. If someone looks like they are so dysfunctional that there is no way they would ever be able to get a job even at one of those Rent A Bum (day labour)places, I’ll dole out some change. Hell, I pay taxes for all kinds of things I’d rather not. If I buy a bottle of Mad Dog for some alky, at least I know where my money is going.

13

My favorite was a guy holding a sign ‘Poor Irishman, Need Money for Food and Beer’. I gave him a couple of bucks.

14

I once had a homeless person approach me and asked me not to give him any money but just to buy him a cup of tea (it was cold out, and we were standing outside a cafe. we went in, I bought him some tea and a sandwich, we chatted for a few minutes, and I went on my way. Nice guy. OTOH, some beggars are real jerks.

My wife tends to buy sandwiches and bottles of water (or tea if it’s cold out) for people she deems truly needy (and after a while you can tell who’s actually after food and who would buy other things with your money). So far, they’ve all considered it a thoughtful gesture.

15

I used to live in downtown LA, in the artists’s loft district, right next to skid row. I was panhandled constantly, I was even panhandled from the street while standing at my second story window. I never give money to panhandlers, and I used to severely chastize any visitor who came to my neighborhood and gave money to bums. Later, I moved to the Haight-Ashbury district of SF, and the panhandling there was even worse.
I tried many strategies. The most successful strategy is to respond to any request with a neutral but firm “no” and nothing else. Don’t make eye contact, don’t make any other acknowledgement that the bum even exists. Here’s a sample dialogue that occurred right at the corner of Haight-Ashbury one day as I was waiting for a bus and smoking a cigarette:
Deadhead bum panhandler: Hey, GIMME a cigarette!
Me: No.
Bum: Come on, gimme one, you can spare it.
Me: No.
Bum: Is that all you can say, “No?”
Me: No.
Bum: #@$&(@^^&^% <stomps off screaming>

This one violated my rule a bit, you should only say no once and make no further acknowledgement of the bum. But the guy was in my face and I had to wait there for the bus.

16

Yeah, I went to a grocery store with a friend when I was in San Diego, there was a woman outside with a baby begging for money for milk. My friend, despite all my protestations, decided to buy her a half gallon of milk. As we went outside, my friend handed the milk to aforesaid panhandling bum. The woman SMASHED the milk container on the ground, splattering the both of us, and she screamed, “I said I wanted MONEY for milk!!”

17

I never give money to women begging with children – it’s such an obvious ploy, and it’s abusive to the kids. Britain, at least, has agencies set up for homeless women with children, and while they’re not ideal by any means they’re usually enough to keep women from begging. It’s especially annoying when they’re in the Underground system. I see them often at Russell Square, a good spot to hit up tourists for cash. Grrrr…

18

I work in Washington, DC, and have more than my fair share of experiences with homeless people and panhandlers. My actions are always the same: I very rarely give away money, but I’ll very often buy them food. If they catch me on my way to lunch (when I’m just doing takeout) and ask for money I’ll say “well, I’m going to Wendy’s. Do you want anything?” It’s very touching, actually, that even though they must be starving, they almost always take GREAT care to try not to go overboard and always order one of the cheaper things, even though I tell them they can order whatever they want. The few times someone’s asked for more, it’s always been because they’ve “partnered up” with another homeless person and want something to take back to them. I don’t know if it’s a ploy or not, but they always ask for it in separate bags, and get different things, so I’d like to at least think that they’re helping someone else.

One time, however, when I was going into Roy Rogers for dinner before going home, I had someone ask me for money. I said the same thing: “Well, I’m going into Roy Rogers, would you like me to get you something?” The guy actually told me “well, I’d like to try this fish and chips place a few blocks away, so if I could just have the money …” LOL. “Sorry, no can do.”

Where I work now there are “regulars” who I always see. The local independent paper, The City Paper, actually ran an article last year talking about how this area of the city is one of the more homeless-friendly areas, so when people come here, they stay here (and protect their turf as well). I will say I’m much more open with the “regulars” than with people I don’t recognize.

19

“Could you stake a fellow American to a meal?”

Hey, it worked for Humphrey Bogart in TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE. Three times.

20

I once worked in an office that overlooked the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder, CO. The Pearl Street Mall is a pedestrian mall, and has lots and lots of panhandlers.

Someone in the office once noticed a panhandler who was hiding in the bushes with a couple of pine branches. When someone would walk by, he’d jump out at them and scare them half to death. The person would look scared for a few minutes, then start laughing. My coworker told another coworker, who told another, and we eventually had about twenty of us in a front office watching and laughing our asses off. We took up a collection and went down and handed the guy about $20 for entertaining us so well.

I also once gave money to a guy holding a sign saying “Will stand on my head for 25 cents.” I figured that was a good deal - I gave him a couple bucks, and he stood on his head. I’m a sucker for comedy.