Hungry and Panhandling

Dear Diary:

“Help me, man, I’m hungry!”
shouted as if his lack of food
were somehow my fault.
I fished in my pocket and
pulled out two quarters.
“What’s this?” he asked, insulted.
“I need a dollar.”
Standing there with my hand out,
I shuddered in fear of his voice.
“Hey, man, you can’t get nothin’ for 50 cents.”
“Take it, or leave it,” I said, trying not to be
intimidated by this threatening tone.
He looked at me. “I’ll take it;
times are tough,” he said.
“Times are tough,” I agreed.
Pause. And then, “God bless you,” he said.

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