Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The bum
Joe the cop crosses the street to escape my rancid smell. Pretends he doesn't see me, in my greasy, dirt stained, torn, and ragged coat. I stand shivering under the awning of an empty store front. "Hey, Joe" I holler. He doesn't even look my way. I cuss at him under my breath, not loudly enough for an approaching couple to hear. "Hey, mister" I speak to the man. He tries to speed up but his lady friend hesitates, opens her purse and hands me a five. "God bless you." she says. I smile and head for the liquor store.
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Great story Henry.
ReplyDeleteMy father in later life after he lost my mother let himself go his hair became ragged his beard grissled and unshaven.We tried but he was heartbroken for 62 years he's been with my mother as first her best friend then her boyfirend then her husband.
ReplyDeleteSo he would have none of us fussy doing things for him that she wasn't there to do.It wasn't until someone mistook him for a bum that he actually cared enough to start taking care of himself.So this story really brought back that to me.