Okay, Fine - Happy New Year
I’m guessing it’s time to finally wish everyone a Happy New Year. So consider the bestowing of warm fuzziness given.
The first few weeks of the New Year are usually a bit chaotic – and this year is no exception. The Adjuster finally graced my home with his presents nearly two-weeks after the flood and then had the nerve to tell me, “Mold is not covered under flood insurance”. In which I replied, “If your happy ass was here 48 hours after the incident, as stated in the policy, perhaps mold could have been avoided.” But alas – he wasn’t, it wasn’t, and now I’m cutting and patching pieces of drywall in my fictitious free-time.
San Francisco apparently received “the gift that keeps on taking” in the form of a new batch of homeless. Last year’s batch contained a large number of “let me entertain you” type homeless, that sang, played some sort of device, told jokes or offered services (I’ll let you imagine). This year however, they are a batch of screaming, whining, crying beggars that engage in violent outbreaks and spout profanity. It’s the gift equivalent to a lump of coal… apparently San Francisco had been bad last year. I’m hoping this year San Francisco behaves and perhaps we can get shiny new homeless that don’t scream or smell like urine.
I’m usually on the train by 5:30AM and I’m fortunate enough to witness many of the colorful impoverished as they attempt to keep warm and collect their 40 minutes of sleep before starting their fairly industrious day. Now before I get slammed with hateful comments about the homeless – I want to be very clear on this matter… screw them. I’ve worked in the city for many years and I have been panhandled as much as 14 times in a six block walk. 14 freaking times! I’ve heard them all… here are some of the most popular:
“Spare change?” – Completely unoriginal and usually does not even get my attention.
“Excuse me; excuse me (shocked when you make eye contact). Um, I’m trying to get to Oakland and all I need is 17 more cents” (waves an old wet BART ticket). – Look slick, BART uses round monetary numbers divisible by five. Asking for 17 cents is just plan stupid. At this point I usually get a pause, quickly followed by the next most popular
“Can you help a brother out?” – Um, no.
Singing, pounding or blowing into an instrument and telling jokes – Enough already. Hearing “Lean on me” every goddamn day for six months makes me want to give them $20… in the form of a roll of quarters clenched in my fist repeatedly upon their face and neck.
It appears to me that there is a logical solution, a symbiosis that could occur, that somebody is choosing to ignore… let me put you on the right track; we have homeless with a hunger problem… we have a city with a pigeon problem. I’m waiting for somebody to just resolve both these issues in one stroke, that’s all I’m saying…
But where was I… oh yes, Happy New Year
The first few weeks of the New Year are usually a bit chaotic – and this year is no exception. The Adjuster finally graced my home with his presents nearly two-weeks after the flood and then had the nerve to tell me, “Mold is not covered under flood insurance”. In which I replied, “If your happy ass was here 48 hours after the incident, as stated in the policy, perhaps mold could have been avoided.” But alas – he wasn’t, it wasn’t, and now I’m cutting and patching pieces of drywall in my fictitious free-time.
San Francisco apparently received “the gift that keeps on taking” in the form of a new batch of homeless. Last year’s batch contained a large number of “let me entertain you” type homeless, that sang, played some sort of device, told jokes or offered services (I’ll let you imagine). This year however, they are a batch of screaming, whining, crying beggars that engage in violent outbreaks and spout profanity. It’s the gift equivalent to a lump of coal… apparently San Francisco had been bad last year. I’m hoping this year San Francisco behaves and perhaps we can get shiny new homeless that don’t scream or smell like urine.
I’m usually on the train by 5:30AM and I’m fortunate enough to witness many of the colorful impoverished as they attempt to keep warm and collect their 40 minutes of sleep before starting their fairly industrious day. Now before I get slammed with hateful comments about the homeless – I want to be very clear on this matter… screw them. I’ve worked in the city for many years and I have been panhandled as much as 14 times in a six block walk. 14 freaking times! I’ve heard them all… here are some of the most popular:
“Spare change?” – Completely unoriginal and usually does not even get my attention.
“Excuse me; excuse me (shocked when you make eye contact). Um, I’m trying to get to Oakland and all I need is 17 more cents” (waves an old wet BART ticket). – Look slick, BART uses round monetary numbers divisible by five. Asking for 17 cents is just plan stupid. At this point I usually get a pause, quickly followed by the next most popular
“Can you help a brother out?” – Um, no.
Singing, pounding or blowing into an instrument and telling jokes – Enough already. Hearing “Lean on me” every goddamn day for six months makes me want to give them $20… in the form of a roll of quarters clenched in my fist repeatedly upon their face and neck.
It appears to me that there is a logical solution, a symbiosis that could occur, that somebody is choosing to ignore… let me put you on the right track; we have homeless with a hunger problem… we have a city with a pigeon problem. I’m waiting for somebody to just resolve both these issues in one stroke, that’s all I’m saying…
But where was I… oh yes, Happy New Year
posted by Survival Cookies at 7:29 AM
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