A STORY ABOUT WAITING FOR A BUS

Last night was our beginning of the year department party. Not much to report on from the party itself--other than the Christmas party last year, all department gatherings I've attended here in Pittsburgh have been fairly tame compared to those in Corvallis--but I've got an interesting story from the trip home.

I was taking the bus to and from the party, and as I walked up to the stop after the party had finished, I noticed a young kid whose age I put at 18 +/- a year. I took out my phone to check the time and was startled when a man addressed me. I hadn't seen him there, so it was something of a shock. He immediately went into a spiel about how every time he tried to talk to someone they backed away from him, which, if he was sneaking up on people like he snuck up on me, I can see why. Anyway, the man proceeded to say he was from a town about 35 miles away and his car was out of gas a few blocks away. He said he needed help, and he went out of his way to emphasize that he didn't want to seem threatening and would stand as far away from us (by this time the young kid had drifted over to the conversation) as we wanted, etc., etc. The young kid asked what sort of help the man needed, and he said that he needed gas, but as his car wouldn't go and he was a few blocks from the gas station, he needed to use a can. The gas station would give him a gas can for a five dollar deposit, but he had no cash with him.

Now, at this point I thought that there was every possibility he was telling me a tale. I've been hit up for money by any number of homeless, by meth addicts on the Greyhound between Portland and Eugene, by all sorts of types. I couldn't deny, though, that there was something of a real desperation to his words and his look, and, for whatever reason, I decided to help him out. I knew that I did have a five dollar bill in my wallet, so I took it out and told him that he could use it for the deposit. The man was very thankful, told me how God was looking down on me and would bless me for this, etc. I tried to shrug it off and told him that I hoped his night would turn out for the better. I was a little embarrassed by his enthusiastic thanks. I didn't think I'd done anything particularly noteworthy or worthwhile. He seemed like he really needed some help, and I could help him, so I did. The young kid made a kind of lame excuse that was more awkward than if he'd just said "no, I won't help you."

As the man walked away, the young kid turned to me and said "You know that was total bullshit, right?" Now, for whatever reason, I was really infuriated by the kid saying that to me. He's right, the man may have been making everything up and I'm just the sucker who fell for his story. I don't think that was the case, but it could have been, so why get angry? I'm not sure, but I did get angry. I turned to the kid said "You don't know anything about that man. He could very well be telling the truth about everything. He sounded like he needed help. So please, just shut up." Not me at my most eloquent, perhaps, but I've been lost in cities before, and I've spent a few hours wandering around streets trying to get some help from people who didn't want anything to do with me. And I had it easy: I'm a relatively non-threatening white male. I imagine that a strange black man whose car has broken down in a residential neighbourhood finds it quite a bit more difficult to get help.

The kid and I chatted for a bit as we waited for the bus. It turns out he's just started at Pitt. A freshman in Criminology. I wonder if assuming the worst about people is an advantage in that field. He didn't know what stop to get off at, so I told him. A few minutes later, a woman walked by and asked if we were waiting for the bus. When we said yes, she told us to move up to the next stop, because the bus tended to drive past the one we were standing at. I said thank you and we walked on. I hope the kid appreciated how many people were willing to help him.

I can't really say why it bothered me so much, but I'm still upset by the kid's comment this morning. Maybe I only helped that guy out of a residual feeling of guilt from all the times I've walked by homeless people and have legitimately not had any change to give to them. Of course, I'm always wondering in those situations if I would give them something if I had any to give. Maybe I was just in a good mood from a party and felt like spreading some cheer. I don't know. I'm not one to make big speeches about altruism and loving one another, nor am I one to appeal to any of kind of religious motivation for my actions, but it does seem like a pretty good idea to help people if you can. I could help that man, so I did. Could I have used that five dollars? You bet. I haven't been paid in three months. Will I starve for not having it? No. And ultimately, if I wasn't going to starve, it seemed as good a use as any I could have put it to for that five dollars to go toward getting that man home to his family.