The well-dressed homeless man
It's a given in New York that the further you travel uptown the chances are majorly increased that your subway ride will be intruded/enlightened by a homeless performer. The performance is usually the same and can rely on a number of constants:
1. Our entertainer will usually be male, unshaven and have the eyes of a hungry wolf
2. The speech will usually sound something like this 'Excuse me ladies and gentlemen. I don't mean to interrupt your journey today but I have been on the streets for 5 years and I just need something to eat tonight. If you could spare some change please'
3. There will usually be an added gimmick such as having AIDS or having one leg or at least pretending to have one leg
4. The average New Yorker will not give any money to them
I used to admire the sheer invention of some. They knew that as passengers we were hardened to this form of begging. It was common and dull to us and so they needed to differentiate themselves as much as possible. Fuck one broken leg, try two! How about some cancer as well? A dead wife perhaps? Maybe the dead wife could be dragged into scene as well?
Which brings me to one of the most memorable interchanges between homeless performer and audience member. Our performer was not the standard archetype for starters. He was healthy-looking, didn't have any track marks on his arm and worst of all, was well-dressed.
He delivered the typically impassioned speech for what was probably his fifteenth performance of the day and while he looked around for the expected apathetic response, a voice could be heard in immediate opposition.
'You're a little too well-dressed to be homeless'
It came from a young woman, clearly suspicious of our performer's motives. I couldn't help but support her (by staring and nodding on the inside) and awaited his response with eager anticipation (New Yorkers are nothing without their confrontational streak)
'What? So just because I'm homeless that means I can't be well-dressed? That I can't make an effort?'
To further sway 'our' argument, the performer was also peculiarly well-spoken. We had come to expect a certain number of characteristics from people such as himself and this expectation-crashing gentleman was unsettling to say the least.
'Well, I just think that you obviously can't need money that much if you're looking so smart'
Any chance that our performer had of scraping even a mentoe out of the audience was completely squandered. We had all silently agreed with our spokeswoman. We may not give money to the one-legged man wearing a blanket but we respect him. This intruder was testing our patience.
The conversation began to take on a more hushed tone as our performer realised he was on a losing streak.
'Its just the apartment prices in the city. I mean how are we expected to afford them?'
Cleverly picking a topic that any New Yorker loves to complain about, the woman leaned in conspiratorially.
'Tell me about it. I mean I moved from Florida and can't believe the difference in price'
And they continued to bitch as if they were two close friends taking the subway back home together. I'm sure our performer learned a valuable lesson that day. Honesty is not a valued commodity in the homeless performance. I'm sure the next day he made sure to rub some dirt into his face, to rip his jacket and to take just a few too many sips from his hip flask before stepping on the train.
Only then would we have felt safe and comfortable on our jouney home. Pitying the poor smelly homeless man with the bad style but still keeping our hands firmly in our pockets.
It's a given in New York that the further you travel uptown the chances are majorly increased that your subway ride will be intruded/enlightened by a homeless performer. The performance is usually the same and can rely on a number of constants:
1. Our entertainer will usually be male, unshaven and have the eyes of a hungry wolf
2. The speech will usually sound something like this 'Excuse me ladies and gentlemen. I don't mean to interrupt your journey today but I have been on the streets for 5 years and I just need something to eat tonight. If you could spare some change please'
3. There will usually be an added gimmick such as having AIDS or having one leg or at least pretending to have one leg
4. The average New Yorker will not give any money to them
I used to admire the sheer invention of some. They knew that as passengers we were hardened to this form of begging. It was common and dull to us and so they needed to differentiate themselves as much as possible. Fuck one broken leg, try two! How about some cancer as well? A dead wife perhaps? Maybe the dead wife could be dragged into scene as well?
Which brings me to one of the most memorable interchanges between homeless performer and audience member. Our performer was not the standard archetype for starters. He was healthy-looking, didn't have any track marks on his arm and worst of all, was well-dressed.
He delivered the typically impassioned speech for what was probably his fifteenth performance of the day and while he looked around for the expected apathetic response, a voice could be heard in immediate opposition.
'You're a little too well-dressed to be homeless'
It came from a young woman, clearly suspicious of our performer's motives. I couldn't help but support her (by staring and nodding on the inside) and awaited his response with eager anticipation (New Yorkers are nothing without their confrontational streak)
'What? So just because I'm homeless that means I can't be well-dressed? That I can't make an effort?'
To further sway 'our' argument, the performer was also peculiarly well-spoken. We had come to expect a certain number of characteristics from people such as himself and this expectation-crashing gentleman was unsettling to say the least.
'Well, I just think that you obviously can't need money that much if you're looking so smart'
Any chance that our performer had of scraping even a mentoe out of the audience was completely squandered. We had all silently agreed with our spokeswoman. We may not give money to the one-legged man wearing a blanket but we respect him. This intruder was testing our patience.
The conversation began to take on a more hushed tone as our performer realised he was on a losing streak.
'Its just the apartment prices in the city. I mean how are we expected to afford them?'
Cleverly picking a topic that any New Yorker loves to complain about, the woman leaned in conspiratorially.
'Tell me about it. I mean I moved from Florida and can't believe the difference in price'
And they continued to bitch as if they were two close friends taking the subway back home together. I'm sure our performer learned a valuable lesson that day. Honesty is not a valued commodity in the homeless performance. I'm sure the next day he made sure to rub some dirt into his face, to rip his jacket and to take just a few too many sips from his hip flask before stepping on the train.
Only then would we have felt safe and comfortable on our jouney home. Pitying the poor smelly homeless man with the bad style but still keeping our hands firmly in our pockets.
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