This morning I was in LA and stopped off at 7-11 for a healthy breakfast with my kids (I had a 32 oz Big Gulp, Daniel had the vitamin-enriched 'Hot Fudge Sundae' flavored Pop Tarts and Ellie opted for the always nutritious "Funions".) It's amazing we didn't run into Britney Spears at the Slurpee machine.
As we got into the car, ready to depart with our tasty treasures, a decrepit old hobo walked by. This guy really was the epitome of "hobo"; he put the stank in the word "stank". Imagine Pig Pen from "Peanuts" at the age of 68 with a full beard, wearing a jacket covered with decades of dirt. As I sucked down my ice cold Pepsi, I felt a twang of humanity and (could it be?) pity. "Give him some money," my kids begged me, as he shuffled towards the garbage can, pulled out a discarded stryofoam cup of coffee and began to drink from it. Maybe I had an Obama spread-the-wealth moment, or was feeling guilty after having just checked out of a 4-star Beverly Hills hotel and having had a $22 Kobe beef burger for dinner the night before, so I jumped out of the car and motioned for him to come over to me. I handed him a $5 bill and said, "Here sir, go get yourself a cup of coffee." He looked up at me with the longest most repulsive snot rocket dangling from his right nostril, deeply embedded in his filthy beard. He grabbed the $5 bill and mumbled what I think might have been a "thank you."
Afraid that his snot-rocket might contain a highly-contagious strain of the bird-flu, I quickly scrambled back in the car and watched him shuffle away with his new-found wealth. I expected him to saunter into the 7-11 for a hot cup of Joe, but alas, Pig Pen ran back to the garbage can where for all I know he threw the $5 away in exchange for a half-eaten hot dog. Your Welcome, homeless dude.