encounter with a street beggar #2

This should have been a blog post in the first place, not a regular post. That would have avoided a shitstorm.

It was the spring of 2015. On a warm April day, I was walking south on Broadway, heading to work, passing my local
bank branch just north of 61st Street. A young blonde woman, about 20, was sitting on the sidewalk right outside the
vestibule with half a dozen ATM's inside. Actually, she was sitting on a big piece of cardboard which was on the
sidewalk. Another big piece of cardboard was propped up against the bank's wall behind her. On it was written, "Homeless
but NOT Hopeless. Please help me." A hat with a few dollar bills in it was near her feet.

As I went by she looked me in the eyes and said, "I'm hungry. Please help me."

"Nobody is going to believe that you're homeless with a pedicure like that," I said, pointing to her feet, in sandals,
with what looked like a professional pedicure, applied in a nail salon, with gleaming bright blue polish and perfectly
shaped toenails.

She blushed and didn't reply.

"What you need to do," I said, "is go home and put on your oldest, dirtiest sneakers. Then maybe people will believe
that you're homeless." I walked away without putting any money into the hat.

The next day, I was walking south on Broadway and I saw, in the exact same spot, the same young woman sitting on the same
piece of cardboard with the same cardboard sign behind her. But now she was wearing a very dirty pair of old sneakers.

She looked up at me, recognized me from the day before, and didn't say anything. I took out my wallet and dropped a
$5 bill into her hat. She looked shocked but still didn't say anything. "Nobody every takes my advice," I said, "and
you did." I continued south on Broadway headed to work.