Humor

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Mistaken Identity


My dad had an appointment with a plastic surgeon whose office was along the
freeway access road in an old part of town. There weren't any other operating
businesses nearby, just old abandoned buildings. It was at the end of a road
known for it's female work force, the kind that wears lace bustiers and heels.
Plenty of bridges and overpasses were around for homeless refugees to bed down.

When I parked and helped my dad out with his walker he pointed out a man
limping down the street. The unfortunate soul had all his belongings with him in a shopping cart. It just happened that I had my lunch sack still full of
goodies: sandwiches, fruit and chips, since I had bought lunch today. Overcome
with the desire to assist a starving stranger I grabbed my food and followed
him down the street, leaving a bewildered father behind, scratching his head. The hapless mortal couldn't hear me calling him because of the traffic, or maybe he was deaf. I'm not sure, but I ran a good distance before I caught up with him. It's possible I saw him pick up speed. Was he trying to out pace me? The doctor's office almost faded from view. At last the man bent over to pick something up and I was in his hearing range. He looked up startled to see a well dressed,good looking, extremely modest,middle aged woman, in heels perspiring heavily from a good jog approaching him while waving a plastic bag wildly above her head. Any sandwiches were now tossed salads.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I have some lunch for you. I didn't eat it today and thought you might enjoy it." I said, proffering the banquette in his direction.

"No, thank you." He declined politely and commenced on his journey, probably seeking a shelter for the upcoming storms predicted for this evening, the poor man.

This startled me. Surely he couldn't turn down a decent meal. Looking at him I
mentally judged his appearance a little odd. He was elderly, dressed in
mismatched shirt and pants and had a full unkempt beard but he wasn't caked in
filth nor did I notice any unusual aromas secondary to days without personal toiletry.

"Are you sure? I haven't touched it." I was now attempting to force a homeless person to accept my present! These people eat from trash bins and I was assuring him my food was untainted! I was actually begging a beggar! If it's against the law to beg, is it against the law to force someone to beg. I was on my way to becoming a felon.

"No thanks." He responded and continued to put some distance between us, looking over his shoulder at me every so often, uneasily.

I was really confused. Most roofless individuals eagerly grab any handout they receive even if it's just to save for later.

"Aren't you homeless?" I queried to his retreating backside.

"No m'am. I'm on my way to the laundry mat. My house is over there." He pointed to some roofs barely showing over an empty warehouse. It was then I noticed the cleaning detergent and bleach on the top of his load. He gave me an indignant shrug which suggested no more further conversation would be appreciated.

I returned to my dad a little sheepishly. When he asked what I was trying to do I suggested, sheepishly, he mind his own business.


(true story about the author.)

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