This cold is keeping me down. Way down. I went into work today but they sent me home . . . I could hardly talk and a salesman lives on the excitement he forces other people to have.
On the way into town I gave a beggar my change. It reminded me of Penny Arcade yesterday, and the argument Gabe was putting up about how it doesn't matter if you only help once a year, at least you're helping. I'm glad I could help that guy, even if it was to help him afford a six-pack and a pack of smokes.
Better the devil you know . . . I guess I'm feeling a lot more truth in that lately. I have two coworkers--one's a guy in his 40s who's as slippery as (insert Southern animal reference here). But he's a crook to your face. Another guy is a kid who'll stab you in your back. I think I like Old Dave better--cuz I KNOW I've gotta watch my step around him, and cuz he's honest about being a dick. Todd, he's just a fuckwad. Fuckwads get shanked. Expect a Sears Shanking.
Same with the beggar. He's not dishonest--he doesn't have a fucking thing and that money's just keeping him alive one day longer--whether it's through a meal, saving up for a hammer so he can go to work, or having a few smokes and some beers instead of nose-diving off an interstate bridge in frustration. Beggars can change--just look at Slipknot frontman Cory. He was a beggar up in Waterloo for a few years, being homeless.
But when I was in Chicago once, I got hustled for ten bucks. It was less "small town kid in the city" as it was "I've been awake for 54 fucking hours and the Navy fucked up my flight home!" The bitch laid a good line on me and I shoveled over the money. She turned and went to the dealer and he gave her the baggie. I'd been had. I couldn't be mad at her so much as I was mad at myself for trusting people. But once again, I'd rather deal with a beggar than an addict, even a half-honest beggar vs a completely dishonest addict. Better the devil you know.
On the way into town I gave a beggar my change. It reminded me of Penny Arcade yesterday, and the argument Gabe was putting up about how it doesn't matter if you only help once a year, at least you're helping. I'm glad I could help that guy, even if it was to help him afford a six-pack and a pack of smokes.
Better the devil you know . . . I guess I'm feeling a lot more truth in that lately. I have two coworkers--one's a guy in his 40s who's as slippery as (insert Southern animal reference here). But he's a crook to your face. Another guy is a kid who'll stab you in your back. I think I like Old Dave better--cuz I KNOW I've gotta watch my step around him, and cuz he's honest about being a dick. Todd, he's just a fuckwad. Fuckwads get shanked. Expect a Sears Shanking.
Same with the beggar. He's not dishonest--he doesn't have a fucking thing and that money's just keeping him alive one day longer--whether it's through a meal, saving up for a hammer so he can go to work, or having a few smokes and some beers instead of nose-diving off an interstate bridge in frustration. Beggars can change--just look at Slipknot frontman Cory. He was a beggar up in Waterloo for a few years, being homeless.
But when I was in Chicago once, I got hustled for ten bucks. It was less "small town kid in the city" as it was "I've been awake for 54 fucking hours and the Navy fucked up my flight home!" The bitch laid a good line on me and I shoveled over the money. She turned and went to the dealer and he gave her the baggie. I'd been had. I couldn't be mad at her so much as I was mad at myself for trusting people. But once again, I'd rather deal with a beggar than an addict, even a half-honest beggar vs a completely dishonest addict. Better the devil you know.