Sunday, July 16, 2006
Streetkind
Today, she finally did it!
P had noticed Brian, a tramp in his 50s for the past year or so since she arrived in this city looking for a job. As most tramps in a big city do, they write about their sorry plights on cardboards, appealing to the empathy and pennies of the people. As she gets herded to move onwards in the crowd for the nth time, P mused quietly that some things never change. A year and a bit on, having been in her third job, she still sees the same tramps that she saw one and a half year ago. Then, she travelled inter-state religiously for a good twelve weeks and attended countless of interviews before she settled for that first job. Her dogged determination and motivation were placed on that big dollar sign. She pushed and promised herself that she would lead her own life and live on her own terms from hereon and that is one thing that she could have control over amidst a life of variables and uncertainties. She sadly wished that these people could get off the streets as even she, has moved on... (she figured her position must have improved by a little more $20,000 than she did so the year before and she makes it a point that she would get more)...
A year ago, Brian would leave his box for spare change scribbled with "God Bless" and a picture of Jesus Christ stuck below on the flap positioned next to him as he sat by the streets faithfully to pray for a get on with his life. He was usually found reading the bible. And indeed, a few months ago, a small miracle did happen to him, she observed. He managed to set himself up with a neat collection of shoe polish, shoe shine, a box of rags, an old foldable metal chair and a wooden sloping feet rest and there, he began his nomadic mini shoe shining business that basically sums up his personal belongings. Well, at least one tramp did get on well enough to part eliminate begging as his main source of livelihood... Maybe good things do happen to good people. So for that small positive inspiration that Brian served, unbeknownst to him, he has become her favourite tramp.
For months, P has wanted her shoes to be polished by Brian, particularly that tatty brown pair of pointy stiletto heels that she leaves at work. It seems a case of bad timing each time as she suffered the same malady of bad dress sense typical of the big city professional crowd. That is, the get up of wearing a corporate suit, her strand of pearls around her neck, ladies' handbag in arm, gym gear backpacked and donning matching (not!) sneakers. And thus, when every pay day arrives as she walks pass Brian, P would look down at her sneakers and would quietly admonish herself for forgetting to extend her "largesse" to him, like a debtor with a nagging guilt for that outstanding bill that needs to be paid...
Today, P did it! Quite spontaneously.
As she shopped mindlessly amongst the crowd, she saw Brian again. He had business today quite fortunately. A man wanted his weekend shoes to be polished. Good on him, she thought. As she looked down at her feet, P noticed that she had her black boots on and they too, looked a tad shabby and needed some brightening up. So she decided that today must be the day and since pay day had just arrived the day before, timing could not be better.Brian was really pleased to have his second customer of the day. P asked how his day was getting on as she noticed the poor man before sitting out in that open wintry cold with that large camel Qantas blanket wrapped around himself. He replied good in a soft, gentle way and they chatted for a bit.
From that short conversation, P realised that Brian probably eats only one meal a day, has no family (as his parents died in a car accident when he was twelve, leaving him and his older brother who shot himself a few years ago),he got a nervous breakdown from that resulted personal tragedy and took to the streets. Now he is trying to pick himself up again but given that he could barely make $15 a day, he does not have enough to pay for that $18 per night temporary shelter. But he told her in an assuring tone that he is a Christian who believes in God and would not stop trying to pick himself up.
P was at a loss for words- partly, because she was sad if the story-of-his-life was true and partly, that practical mind of hers (having been beguiled for her kindness a few times) was careful to shield herself from his possible attempt at coaxing a few more pennies out of her. But in her mind, she knew that she was relenting and her benchmark of paying $5.00 for his service today saw itself doubling to $10.00. She always postulated that Brian must have done time in prison and had as a result, become society's outcast and hence the reason why he took to the streets...
So there you go- P being a sucker for stories as such, figured she could do with one less meal and handed her $10 over eagerly when that man finished polishing her boots. She figured, whatever. At least, she finally did it and Brian could do anything with the money-get more food and booze to keep himself warm on the streets or just about anything that could possibly make him happy. Everyone is entitled to some form of indulgence. Well, at least she did make his day. Blue $10 notes are hard to come by for a 3 min service. She stood up to leave and thanked him, a slight smile on her face, like she had finally made peace with herself and got one debt paid out of her mental checklist. Then she continued moving onwards to that different world where the luxury of choice and desires abound- her mind drifting back to that Marc Jacobs leather handbag that she was eyeing in the window as she continued deliberating how to close her next wishlist purchase, having paid off fully more than a thousand dollars on her credit card two hours earlier in cash and wondering where to dig for yet another few $1000 notes to repay another...
In the world that she operates in, retail therapy seems the fastest quick-fix way to feed her empty soul like one who gets high and happy on drugs, only to awake the next day with a nasty after-effect... And that, she loathes. But like an addict, she abides to that trap. How enviable is Brian - he, being that wandering soul whose only worry stems from that age old need of scavenging for the basic necessities but his soul is fully nourished by his complete devotion to that Provider named God... and today, P paid her faith in Brian who, too alleviated her soul....
So it seems- the grass is always greener on the other side...
Today, she finally did it!
P had noticed Brian, a tramp in his 50s for the past year or so since she arrived in this city looking for a job. As most tramps in a big city do, they write about their sorry plights on cardboards, appealing to the empathy and pennies of the people. As she gets herded to move onwards in the crowd for the nth time, P mused quietly that some things never change. A year and a bit on, having been in her third job, she still sees the same tramps that she saw one and a half year ago. Then, she travelled inter-state religiously for a good twelve weeks and attended countless of interviews before she settled for that first job. Her dogged determination and motivation were placed on that big dollar sign. She pushed and promised herself that she would lead her own life and live on her own terms from hereon and that is one thing that she could have control over amidst a life of variables and uncertainties. She sadly wished that these people could get off the streets as even she, has moved on... (she figured her position must have improved by a little more $20,000 than she did so the year before and she makes it a point that she would get more)...
A year ago, Brian would leave his box for spare change scribbled with "God Bless" and a picture of Jesus Christ stuck below on the flap positioned next to him as he sat by the streets faithfully to pray for a get on with his life. He was usually found reading the bible. And indeed, a few months ago, a small miracle did happen to him, she observed. He managed to set himself up with a neat collection of shoe polish, shoe shine, a box of rags, an old foldable metal chair and a wooden sloping feet rest and there, he began his nomadic mini shoe shining business that basically sums up his personal belongings. Well, at least one tramp did get on well enough to part eliminate begging as his main source of livelihood... Maybe good things do happen to good people. So for that small positive inspiration that Brian served, unbeknownst to him, he has become her favourite tramp.
For months, P has wanted her shoes to be polished by Brian, particularly that tatty brown pair of pointy stiletto heels that she leaves at work. It seems a case of bad timing each time as she suffered the same malady of bad dress sense typical of the big city professional crowd. That is, the get up of wearing a corporate suit, her strand of pearls around her neck, ladies' handbag in arm, gym gear backpacked and donning matching (not!) sneakers. And thus, when every pay day arrives as she walks pass Brian, P would look down at her sneakers and would quietly admonish herself for forgetting to extend her "largesse" to him, like a debtor with a nagging guilt for that outstanding bill that needs to be paid...
Today, P did it! Quite spontaneously.
As she shopped mindlessly amongst the crowd, she saw Brian again. He had business today quite fortunately. A man wanted his weekend shoes to be polished. Good on him, she thought. As she looked down at her feet, P noticed that she had her black boots on and they too, looked a tad shabby and needed some brightening up. So she decided that today must be the day and since pay day had just arrived the day before, timing could not be better.Brian was really pleased to have his second customer of the day. P asked how his day was getting on as she noticed the poor man before sitting out in that open wintry cold with that large camel Qantas blanket wrapped around himself. He replied good in a soft, gentle way and they chatted for a bit.
From that short conversation, P realised that Brian probably eats only one meal a day, has no family (as his parents died in a car accident when he was twelve, leaving him and his older brother who shot himself a few years ago),he got a nervous breakdown from that resulted personal tragedy and took to the streets. Now he is trying to pick himself up again but given that he could barely make $15 a day, he does not have enough to pay for that $18 per night temporary shelter. But he told her in an assuring tone that he is a Christian who believes in God and would not stop trying to pick himself up.
P was at a loss for words- partly, because she was sad if the story-of-his-life was true and partly, that practical mind of hers (having been beguiled for her kindness a few times) was careful to shield herself from his possible attempt at coaxing a few more pennies out of her. But in her mind, she knew that she was relenting and her benchmark of paying $5.00 for his service today saw itself doubling to $10.00. She always postulated that Brian must have done time in prison and had as a result, become society's outcast and hence the reason why he took to the streets...
So there you go- P being a sucker for stories as such, figured she could do with one less meal and handed her $10 over eagerly when that man finished polishing her boots. She figured, whatever. At least, she finally did it and Brian could do anything with the money-get more food and booze to keep himself warm on the streets or just about anything that could possibly make him happy. Everyone is entitled to some form of indulgence. Well, at least she did make his day. Blue $10 notes are hard to come by for a 3 min service. She stood up to leave and thanked him, a slight smile on her face, like she had finally made peace with herself and got one debt paid out of her mental checklist. Then she continued moving onwards to that different world where the luxury of choice and desires abound- her mind drifting back to that Marc Jacobs leather handbag that she was eyeing in the window as she continued deliberating how to close her next wishlist purchase, having paid off fully more than a thousand dollars on her credit card two hours earlier in cash and wondering where to dig for yet another few $1000 notes to repay another...
In the world that she operates in, retail therapy seems the fastest quick-fix way to feed her empty soul like one who gets high and happy on drugs, only to awake the next day with a nasty after-effect... And that, she loathes. But like an addict, she abides to that trap. How enviable is Brian - he, being that wandering soul whose only worry stems from that age old need of scavenging for the basic necessities but his soul is fully nourished by his complete devotion to that Provider named God... and today, P paid her faith in Brian who, too alleviated her soul....
So it seems- the grass is always greener on the other side...
