A Mile Where?
After using the facilities inside, my friend and I started to walk out to my car at the local gas station/mini-mart/pizza place/car wash/bowling alley and whatever the hell else they could cram into that building! (Does anything stand-alone anymore?) Anyway, before we made it to the car, this�?uhm, indigent approached me.
No! This guy was a bum, pure and simple. (Well, there goes my chance of being Mr. Politically Correct!) Anyhow, his request was, “Spare change, man. I’m really hungry, man, anything will do, man.�?nbsp;
Man? I thought that one died in 1976! Whatever, I reached in my pocket and extracted about 94 cents, all the loose change I had.
“Here ya�?go partner.�?nbsp; I said as I dropped it into his hand.
“What the hell’s this, man?�?He screamed and I do mean screamed in my face. “Is this the best ya�?got, man? S**t, the cheapest wine they got, man, is at least 3 dollars, man.�?/FONT>
My buddy turned and stared, then started backing his way to the car. He knew something was coming, he just wasn’t sure what. I slapped that bum’s open hand so hard, that some of the coins literally ricocheted off the canopy above our heads.
He let out a holler. Pain, surprise or both, I didn’t know and didn’t care. On his hands
and knees, he scrambled to fetch the coins that were skittering around in wild circles on the ground. I scrambled too, trying to kick the coins into the drain in the middle of the gas island. (I’ll have to make this an Olympic sport. Kick and Fetch, should go over big.) When it was all done, he held out about 28 cents; “NOOOOOOOOO! You lousy mother…�?Well, I won’t finish what he said.
As I slipped behind the steering wheel of my car, mi amigo, (another one that never made it out of 1968), looked at me and said, “Y’know, you should walk a mile in his shoes before you do things that…�?He paused there too long.
I thought about that statement for a minute�?well, 15 seconds�?okay, 10 seconds. I did give it 10 seconds.
“Now hold it right there, Chester!�?(His name is actually Fred.) I shifted into drive. “I don’t wanna walk a mile in his shoes! I don’t wanna walk a mile in your shoes!�?I slipped into traffic in search of a good chilidog, we both like chilidogs. “I don’t even want to walk a mile in my shoes! My feet hurt bad enough the way it is!�?I managed to spit out, as I made a right turn at the corner.
“Besides.�?I continued a little softer and before he could start up. “Are you trying to tell me that just because he hasn’t seen a podiatrist he has the right to have a lousy attitude�?"
“That’s not…�?He tried.
“To be unappreciative of a gift�?no matter how big or small?�?I persisted.
“Well…�?/FONT>
I made another right turn into the Wienerschnitzel drive-thru and got in line.
“I’ll tell you what he needs.�?nbsp; I continued. “A proctologist to remove his head from where it is and return it to shoulders!�?/FONT>
Fred looked at me with amusement and leaned against the window, as though he were trying to hide behind the seatbelt. I started to continue my tirade, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a filthy hand out, with palm up.
“Spare change, man?�?/FONT>
“What...?�?I stuttered. “How the hell�?�?/FONT>
The bum was surprised and tried to make a hasty retreat, when he realized whom he was talking to. Before he could get too far I grabbed his wrist.
“Here.�?nbsp; I slapped a 20-dollar bill in his hand. “Go buy yourself a comfy pair of shoes.�?/FONT>
He stared at the 20 and started to turn in silence. Before he got far, I climbed out of the car and grabbed him, “Wait just a second, Charlie.�?nbsp; I opened the back door and shoved him in. “I’ll take you to the shoe store�?just to be sure.�?/FONT>
I put the car in drive and started toward the order window. Fred and I looked at each other with our noses wrinkled. We looked back and in unison said, “Wind your damned window down!�?/FONT>
Walker
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