The Guy in the Wheelchair…
As I’ve said before, I live in a poor neighborhood. There is a lot of foot traffic and I think it is because some of these people just can’t afford cars. There is this guy in a wheelchair and he has visited me several times before asking for money. He was pacing almost frantically up and down the streets of my neighborhood stopping at various houses. Today, I asked him just what he needed with the money. I suspected beer.
“I just want to roll down to the convenience store and buy me some cigarettes,” he told me honestly.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” I asked. “I’ve got some cigarettes and can help you with that problem.”
Dad would just die as he pays for my cigarettes and they are expensive. I gave the fellow two packs of Marlboro Reds and he immediately lit up not wasting any time. You could visibly see his demeanor change right in front of my eyes as he began to relax.
“How did you get to be paralyzed if you don’t mind me asking you sir?” I asked.
“Bad motorcycle accident,” he replied. “A car hit me.”
I live in a very interesting neighborhood it seems. It keeps Maggie busy guarding the house. Honestly? I felt terrible for giving those cigarettes away. I just can’t afford it and it may make a big difference at the end of the week when I will run low on smokes. I only get a carton a week. Things like this just pique my social anxieties as well. I don’t want to fool with strange people at my front door. I abhor solicitations like that. It is imposing and rude in my mind. I would never, ever do it personally.