Just Another Girl On The IRT

Freestyle musings from a pseudo-intellectual hellcat in high heels with Huxtable aspirations in a ghetto fab world. Proudly sponsored by bouts of bitchy mood swings, one too many swigs of Turning Leaf, the letters F & U and the madness that is the Rotten Apple.

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Location: Brooklyn, New York, United States

Work in progress. Neurotic. Daydream believer. Bookworm. Addicted to the arts. Stubborn. Spoiled rotten. Lefty in more ways than one. Pop culture whore. Equal opportunity hater. Kid at heart.

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Monday, November 20, 2006

Beggars can't be choosers

Gimme what ya gotIt never occurred to me that I was walking around all this time with quite a discerning distinction. Oblivious to the obvious, how was I to know that I'd have the letters ATM branded on my forehead? You know, I remember the days when the less fortunate would be humbled by their plight and be grateful for any random act of kindness...but now a few bad apples are starting to spoil the whole bunch. Some of them have gotten a bit too damn demanding. Brazen as hell even. Apparently spare charge no longer will suffice. Oh, no no no no. Emboldened by Burger King's marketing mantra, they want it their way.

Running late for work as always, I had to make my pit stop for a quick latte and bagel before slinking into the office on the incognegro tip. In the midst of rummaging through my larger-than-life tote for my wallet, I was accosted at the corner by a girl who appeared no older than 18 for money.
"Excuse me miss, could you spare a few dollars so I can get something to eat? Five or so would really help me out."
It took me a second to really process the sheer audacity of this broad to snap back into my usual brusque, impatient demeanor. Five bills or so, huh? Forget taking what you can get, you throw the figure out and I'll just fish for some greenbacks like an ass. Bitch please.

I offered her a $1 to help towards putting something warm in her hands, but she refused on some haughty, nose wrinkling "as if" type shit.

I just walked away dumbfounded. You're hungry but picky? If you're that hungry wouldn't you eat just about anything? Was she expecting an invitation at the Mandarin Oriental? What am I missing here? Since when do panhandlers get carte blanche for champagne wishes and caviar dreams?

This hearkens back to my initial inclination where I treat the majority with the sob story sales pitches as being full of shit. Only in New York, kids.... only in New York.


link | Shot from the lip by TriniPrincess at 12:24 PM |


3 Comments:
Anonymous Anonymous commented at 11/26/2006 12:17:00 PM~  

Well... U got the rich folks who couldn't understand riding anyway except in the back of a limo versus the regular folks who at least wouldn't be down for anything less than driving and then there's me, (hi) the walker. All our shit smells the same, but we're used to a lil something different. So... Obviously... She was a five dollar bum... Not a one dollar bum.

~Rem

Blogger DollFace commented at 11/27/2006 03:29:00 PM~  

Damn...she gave you the stinky face when you tried to help HER ass out?! Damn...this is what I have to look forward to in Jan?!

Welcome back! I used to read your blog but never commented since I just created my own during your "sabbatical" :-)

Blogger TriniPrincess commented at 11/28/2006 10:27:00 PM~  

Hey Rem,
I can understand the haves vs. the have-nots, but sometimes people need to swallow their pride and get in where they fit in. (And that cuts across all walks of life)

Hi Dollface,
Could you believe the nerve? Thanks for the welcome back.

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