I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this before, but – while I live in the suburbs, I work in the City. In fact, I work in one of the nicest and most affluent areas of the city, where everyday things are very expensive. Along with all of the expensive, tempting stores, nice areas tend to come with homeless people. Now, admittedly, they are not nearly as bad here in Boston as they are in, say, San Francisco – but I still see my fair share on a daily basis.
The weather has been getting really nice, and I’ve been wanting to wear open-toed sandals again. When I heard that today was supposed to be 80 plus degrees, I was convinced – I had to go get a pedicure yesterday after work so that I could wear a summery outfit today. I know, I know – pedicures are expensive, and an indulgence that I probably can’t afford, but I really am helpless at trying to paint my toenails myself, and its actually not that expensive to get one – $27 plus a few more dollars for a tip. I tend to get one every 4 weeks or so from about the end of April to the end of September – I really am trying to make them last. Its better than my previous habit, which was to simply buy endless bottles of nail polish that I would waste, and never have decent looking feet.
So, I get my pedicure, then I stop off at Ben & Jerry’s for an ice cream cone, which is another part of my pedicure ritual day. I am eating my $5 ice cream, walking to the train station to head home, when I pass a homeless man. He looks up at me, and says in a very clear voice – “Have a nice day, miss”. I sort of mumbled “You too” and kept on walking. As I walked away, I was immediately seized by the idea that I should do something, contribute something – I may be in debt, but really, I am so privileged, and I have so much. Even though I had a walk light, I grabbed a dollar out of my purse, and turned around and put it in his cup. He said “Oh, thank you sweetheart, have a lovely evening!” in this surprised tone of voice, and I felt even more guilty – should I have given more?
I don’t know what it was about this man. Perhaps it was his kind tone of voice, or the fact that, while he seemed to be dressed shabbily, he was very clean. I can’t imagine getting to a place in life where you have to sit outside a Starbucks, asking strangers for spare change. I thought about him, and my reaction, the whole train ride home.
