(See, this is the problem with walking a mile and a half back to the subway every day: too much time to think and nothing on which to write down the Thoughts That Come Unbidden)
Does it make me a bad person that I gave my $.58 in change to the guy playing Bach on the trumpet at the Metro and not to the clearly raggedy pan handler up the block from my office? (Yes, I could help you out if you did every single thing I said but, really, you want money so why not just say that?)
How do you explain to people that yes you are, in fact, laughing out loud at a book about punctuation?
How do I make sure I get the train with all the nice people on it again tomorrow? (I saw at least six people offer their seats to others who looked in need; it’s been ages since I’ve seen that.)
[Ah ha! But sometimes, I remember these things…]
What is it, exactly, about a man-style dress shirt that makes a good looking woman at least 10% more attractive?
I usually give my money to musicians and street performers, and not to the others. I feel more comfortable about that, since it doesn’t feel like a handout: with a musician, I am paying to hear the music, and both the musician and I benefit. He gets my change and I get the joy of listening to a song. I feel better about that exchange than I feel about just handing out money. So if that makes you a bad person, then I’m bad too.
And I picked up that book the other day. I just glanced through while I was waiting for a friend in a shop, and it made me giggle there in the middle of the store.