The Mongolians

Exercise, Subway, Roommates, Neighbors, and Politics (not really politics)

The Buck Passed Here

I have always been told to never give money to homeless people. "They are going to use it to buy booze and slim jims and not get out of their situation if you keep enabling them." Obviously I have a better understanding of how to use money since it will be better spent on a $40 round of drinks for myself and some friends at a shady establishment down the street who's owner probably runs a side business researching how to make the sidewalks even colder at night to keep homeless off of his curb.

The panhandlers were in full force this weekend too. Just from looking at me they probably can't tell that I have an entire well thought out rationale as to why I don't directly hand over any money to anyone on the street who walks up and begs for it or calls me 'big guy'. Perhaps I should draw up a pamphlet detailing every reason with bullet points and captioned pictures. It is the most fun new way to piss off real people since Fundamentalist Christians began leaving pamphlets as tips at restaurants.

On the "El" in Chicago we shared a car with a group of people our age that were all wearing the same outfits. They were on a reality TV show similar to the Amazing Race but with only 2 days long and featured one city to run around in. The girl we talked was very social and gracious and hinted at the fact that they had not had anything to eat all day. Since all teams had an equal start they were all given an equal amount of money and food to ration as needed. She said that the worst part of the competition was having to ask for money.

I had not given a lot of thought to what to when solicited by cute Canadian girl reality TV panhandlers. The 2 dollars, that had not found a home in my wallet yet, practically jumped out of my pocket and into the hands of the contestant.

I will not give money to someone who really needs it but 10 minutes later I will give it to someone who is well off enough to drop everything in their life to compete on a game show? That did not seem fair. I guess I wanted to be a part of the competition. I wanted to play the game too. Part of me thought that giving her $2 would make the lights in the train flash like I'm on the Cash Cab and a game show host voice would come over the intercom and tell me that I had won the right to be on the show! A bunch of game show ninjas would come out of hiding and dress me up in the game show clothes and make me belong. Belonging is the American Dream after all.

This new form of begging for money might be what the real poor people need to consider. The old techniques are old and worn out: "Hey buddy you got any change? Man I haven't eaten for days and I just need some help... even some quarters, please, you got anything?" or shoving a single lily in my sister's hand when she was 8-years-old and chasing us all over Atlanta trying to give us directions to the Brave's game - is not the way to do it anymore.

Reality TV panhandling is an untapped resource. You do not even need the TV part of the equation. The panhandler simply needs to tell the person that there is a camera in the building nearby or they have them in their shoes. Whoa, you're on the Shoe Cam! As long as someone thinks that their charity will score a spot on a TV show, the generosity will flow more freely.

Leftover t-shirts from reality TV shows and Survivor buffs need to be donated to shelters and soup kitchens to add to the reality of this prank. Soon Survivor will have to run out of tropical islands to host their show. Survivor - Compton is only a few years away. The public will be expecting it. The money is ripe and ready.

The next time you are hit up for money on the street, hand the panhandler a piece of paper with the name of this blog on it. You should probably keep some of those in your purse anyway.

posted by Ghengis @ 10:04 PM,

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    I'm Ghengis From Mongolia I like climbing, hopping across rocks in running water, and becoming an old man who is worried about the lawn. I hope today is friday.
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