At the Risk of Ruining my Bad Reputation …
reverendhornibastard
Depraved Deacon of Degeneracy
I am a pervert and I am prepared to admit it. But, despite my occasional outrageous conduct, I do occasionally behave like I have a heart or a conscience.
I’m sure some of you have run into this dilemma. You feel a desperate need to be desplooginated by a gorgeous woman whom you’ve never even met. You jump into your car, swing by the nearest ATM and head off towards your favorite strip club where you have reliably received emergency desploogination services in the past.
On your way, you stop at a red light and spot a destitute family (mother and two young children), begging on the side of the road.
You try not to look at them, but the seriously bored and unhappy faces of the children demand your attention.
It inevitably occurs to you that the $500 to $1,000 you just pulled out of the ATM would go a long way towards making this family’s next few days a lot brighter than they would otherwise be. At the very least, they could get some hot food.
But you really do need to be desplooginated … and soon! Your sanity depends on this.
I confess that, most of the time, I soldier on with my original plan. I’ve already been to the ATM. My trousers are now bulging with cash and bad intentions. I am loaded for bare! If it is one of those truly desperate days when an excess of male hormones has turned my brain to oatmeal, nothing can be allowed to endanger the successful accomplishment of my emission.
I hate these tough decisions!
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But on a few occasions, I roll down the window and offer some or all of the money I had planned to spend in the club to the family on the side of the road.
I briefly consider asking the destitute curbside mama with the hungry kids for a blow job, but decide against it.
I drive away, feeling mildly good about myself and go home to let the ever ready and reliable Mrs. Hornibastard solve my problem.
Please don’t tell anybody about this,
I would truly hate to ruin my terrible reputation.
Adjudicators
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I wish I would have taken a second or two to think about it. I would have concluded the guy really did need a meal. I donate money to the local food banks every year around the holidays and after this encounter, I will make sure to change my way of thinking and give a couple of bucks to people in need who approach me. If they're scamming, perhaps their conscience will catch up to them some day, like mine did on this night.
Thanks for the reminder, Rev.
No doubt there are some people who simply feel life is easier spent panhandling than working. But I also believe that there are some living on the streets who can’t help themselves.
I’m no social worker and don’t pretend to understand why these people can’t get or keep a job but I suspect mental disabilities are at the root of it for many of them.
“Take your meds” is easy enough to say but I’m not so sure how effective that advice is when it lands inside the head of a crazy person.
1) Dude had picked up junk from around the area to build a 6' tall rocket ship. Cardboard boxes, spackling compound containers, a water cooler jar to make it pointy on top, and soda cans attached like rocket boosters. He also wrapped his arms, legs and body with shiny cellophane and had a hardhat that served as his space helmet. His sign said, "Space Man needs rocket fuel to get back home. Please help!" Lots of people were stopping to look at his art project. Some were even playing along, asking what planet he's from and if he has a wife there. He had a bucket and everybody was dropping dollars in it. He was cleaning up. The thing was really creative and well done but he was no art student, just a motivated bum with a good personality.
2) This guy approached my car at a red light. His sign simply said, "Why lie? I need a beer."
I once lived in a mildly run down beach town in San Diego (Ocean Beach). Homeless guy lived out of his wheelchair on sidewalk near the pier and had similar sign, he did well with donations. A few months after he set up shop near the pier, the local paper ran a story on him in which he bragged about spending the $ on booze and street prostitutes that banged him in his wheelchair (the town's few street girls were unattractive). "Good for you" is what I thought to myself and thereafter gave him a few bucks whenever I passed.
Just drive with your eyes closed! Problem solved. You're welcome!😜
Seriously, I feel you. There are a couple of old ladies that hang out behind our church. I always stop to give them a couple of bucks and talk with them a bit.