I live in an upper-tier neighborhood in Miami. There's a Publix right across the street. These two coincidences collide to make a "Perfect Storm" of homeless people.
I don't have anything against homeless people. They're great! Well, they're okay, I guess. "Great" is kind of an overstatement. But, for the most part, they're nice.
Now, I can tell you, there is no other more awkward time to run into a homeless person than when you are on your way to Coinstar.
I'm walking with a grocery bag full of coins to go cash it out, when I get the inevitable, "Hey Man, you got any spare change?" I'm holding like 20 lbs of assorted coins.
"No, Brother. Sorry, this isn't "spare," I've been saving this shit for like 2 years. But, here's a handful. Start your own collection." I usually try to help.
------BUT--------
When I come out of the store, after cashing in my loot, the same fucking guy comes up and asks for money AGAIN. Now it's just uncomfortable.
"Hey Man, hook me up with some cash. I'm hungry."
"Sorry, I don't have any cash..."
"No? I think you do. You gonna help me out right here."
So, now my act of civil compassion is turning into a passive robbery. This sucks. This guy doesn't know me. I look very "normal;" like the type of person who does not have the propensity for extreme violence at the drop of a hat. So, basically, shit's about to get real... I stare at him. He stares at me. There must've been something about my demeanor that he noticed. I've no idea, but suddenly he says, "I'm sorry. I must've made a mistake."
"Yep. Huge mistake, Brother. Have a nice day."
"Thank you, Sir."
Fucking Coinstar. Grrrr.
