>This morning I decided I needed a $6.00 Starbucks decaf soy latte so that I could concentrate on my Bioactive Compounds take home exam. Phytosterols, was that what I was craving. Whatever. This isn’t about that …
I live in the suburbs. That section of the lazy, boring country that I HATE. I think most people live there and no offense to you, but it suffocates me. But it is only temporary for me, until my Sailor returns to the surface and we live on the same body of land for the first time in three years. But this is still not about that…
When I mindlessly drifted away from the Starbucks drive thru sipping on my somehow always too complicated to get it the way I asked for it coffee, I sat at the red light. And I felt like I got hit over the head with a frying pan. The sturdy cast iron kind. On every one of the four corners was a homeless person begging for a “miracle.” Each with the familiar cardboard sign with a quick explanation of their circumstances and what they needed from…anyone. And they always stare into your car windows directly into your soul.
I am unfamiliar with how someone finds themselves in that place, but I do not EVER pass judgement. But what is it that makes us stare straight ahead, burning with self-consciousness? Is it guilt? Self-righteousness? Fear? I really have no idea. And it may be an area of my inner self I don’t care to explore because it feels safer to live in my little oblivious bubble.
I had exactly $6.00 in cash. The same price as my coffee. I rolled down the window (with a button inside my luxury car) and yelled “hey” to the couple on the nearest corner (who could not have been more that 24, if that) and handed
them the cash. It took a lifetime for the light to change to green and the guy thanked me the entire time. Breaking my heart.
But what am I supposed to do? What are you supposed to do?
