Some Days You Just Can't Get Rid of a Pizza

If you've been following along, you already know about the late Old Pantsless Guy. Just to recap, he was an old man that used to loiter outside the 7-11 near our old office. He could always be seen wearing his tattered blue trench coat and hat, and seemingly nothing else. He was just one of the menagerie of oddballs that populate our fair city. But more specifically, OPG was one of the Scary Old Men, a troika of scrawny old white guys that roamed the South End. Aside from him, the Scary Old Men consisted of the cross-dressing security guard, and a really skinny guy with a bushy beard. There's a line in Fight Club that goes "Chloe looked the way Meryl Streep's skeleton would look if you made it smile and walk around a party being extra nice to everybody." Well, this guy looks the way Fidel Castro's skeleton would look if you made it walk around in a filthy tank top and shorts all day. The jury's still out on whether any or all of these guys are homeless, crazy, or both. But with the passing of OPG, the Scary Old Men are now a duo.

You may also remember Tricycle Man. If you've ever seen Tyrone Biggums on Chappelle's Show, just picture him pedaling a three-wheel down the street, huffing "Huuuh! Huuuh!"

Standing in front of another 7-11 is the "Even better" guy. When you walk past him he says, "You have a good day, now!" But if you give him some change, he says, "You have an even better day!" Or if he said "You're looking good," he'll amend it to "You're looking even better!"

But arguably the most well known homeless guy in Boston is the ubiquitous (I hate that word ubiquitos. Mostly because I see it everywhere. Somewhere along the line, the word ubiquitous itself became ubiquitous.) shaggy-haired, slow-talking guy with the huge glasses. He's usually in the Park Street area, but I've seen him on the subway a few times and even in Harvard Square. Remember that old guy from Wings? Well, if he ever did the voice of a cartoon snail, it would sound just like this guy,

Does any-body haaaave any spaaaare chaaaange?

Siiiir, do yoou haaaave any spaaaare chaaaaange?

Miss? Can you spaaaare some chaaaange?

Does any-body haaaave any spaaaare chaaaange?

In that last picture, he's scratching a lottery ticket. So that's what the change is for! Once I offered him some orange juice, but he just said "Nnnnooooo." Another time I saw him sitting by the window in coffee shop. He was holding a coffee with one hand, and the other was gesturing to the people walking by the window outside. He was still saying "Can you spaaare some chaaaange?" even though they were on the other side of the glass and couldn't hear him, while he was inside drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

So why am I telling you all this? Am I setting up the framework for my new line of "Homeless of Boston" collector's cards? No, but there's an idea, I mean, people could collect and trade their favorite stars and the proceeds could go to the Pine Street Inn, or something. It could even branch out into a board game, Hungry, Hungry Homeless.

Okay, before the ground opens up and swallows me, let me say that the point of the story I'm about to tell is that I try to help those less fortunate whenever I can.

A couple of years ago, I lived in Boston for a few months, watching my cousin's cats while she and her husband went on a road trip across the country. I was staying in the North End, which is a heavily Italian neighborhood. My friends and I had tickets to see John Leguizamo at the Colonial Theater, so they took the train into town and I met up with them. But before I did, I ordered a couple of slices of pizza from one of the various Italian restaurants near my cousin's apartment. I didn't realize that their slices where equal to about half a pizza, so I could only eat one piece. It was getting late, so I took the other piece with me and headed off to meet my friends. I figured I could give the other slice to someone along the way who really needed it.

I went down near Downtown Crossing, where I usually see a lot of pan handlers, but I didn't see any. Not one. So I kept walking. I was bound to bump into one eventually, right?

I kept walking. Jeez, what did they all go on vacation or something? I finally saw a man in a wheelchair on a corner. I was about to go over to him, but I stopped. What if he's not poor? What if he's just a guy in a wheelchair? You know how angry they can get when you try to help them.

On the corner across from him I saw another man. He was sitting down on a piece of cardboard, rattling a cup full of change. I was about to go over to him, but then I thought, "What if that other guy really was homeless? I just walked right passed a guy in a wheel chair and helped someone who still had full use of their legs. If I did that, the guy in the wheelchair would think I was a dick."

So I kept walking.

Eventually, I met up with my friends. Unable to find anyone to give the pizza to, I dropped it in the trash. I left it face up, so I guess if someone was really hungry, they could have taken it out of the trash. Still, I wish I'd have given it to one of those guys on the corner. I could have split it in half or something. I felt really bad about it. Nobody should have to live like that. On that note, here's a song I always think of whenever I go out of my way to ingonre a begger on the street.

On the Turning Away
Pink Floyd

On the turning away
From the pale and downtrodden
And the words they say
Which we won't understand
Don't accept that what's happening
Is just a case of others' suffering
Or you'll find that you're joining in
The turning away

It's a sin that somehow
Light is changing to shadow
And casting it's shroud
Over all we have known
Unaware how the ranks have grown
Driven on by a heart of stone
We could find that we're all alone
In the dream of the proud

On the wings of the night
As the daytime is stirring
Where the speechless unite
In a silent accord
Using words you will find are strange
And mesmerized as they light the flame
Feel the new wind of change
On the wings of the night

No more turning away
From the weak and the weary
No more turning away
From the coldness inside
Just a world that we all must share
It's not enough just to stand and stare
Is it only a dream that there'll be
No more turning away?

Anyway, speaking of homeless people, if you've been losing sleep at night wondering what ever happened to pro wrestling's Rikishi, you can sleep easy knowing he'll be wrestling this weekend at the National Guard Armory in Quincy. Really.