the walking homeless man named dan.

last week, as i was walking down the street to my friend's house, a man in a wheelchair, whom i assume to be homeless, asked me for a dollar. due to the fact that i am broke myself, i couldn't give him any money. he thanked me anyways and wished me a nice day.

behind my retreating back, i heard him ask another person for spare change, and i began to wonder, how many times have i seen this man, out there in the pouring rain, sitting in the same darn spot day after day after day, asking people for money, spare change, or to get him a cup of coffee from the coffee shop across the street? i think back & i realized that i have seen him there most of my life, weather permitting of course. he doesn't beg in the winter. he doesn't beg in the fall.

as i passed the hotel next to his usual spot, i noticed a stencil tagging, it read, in perentices, (he can walk, but not well), i looked back, and i saw him picking up change from the ground, yelling over his shoulder, "THANK YOU VERY MUCH! AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY!" i assume that someone must have thrown it at him, with some snide remark about getting a job.

he looked up at me with sorrow in his eyes, as he noticed me watching him struggle to pick up the change and not fall out of his wheel chair. people were just walking around him, not helping one bit.

for some odd reason, i knew that he didn't really want their help. i knew that he must have a home to go to, for i didn't always see him out there, he must go someplace. i looked at him and i saw a man, with dignity, with pride, with consideration for others. i looked at him and i saw him get up, albeit with much trouble, and he walked around his wheelchair, grabbed the push handles of his wheelchair, and began walking away.

i wasn't troubled by the fact that he could walk. i wasn't troubled by the fact that no one else would help him, let alone push him. i was troubed because i didn't know his story. i was troubled because i thought to myself, would i do the same thing, if i were in his shoes? would i admit defeat against the world and be reduced to begging, even though i got disability checks?

later, i learned that he had two full-sized vans, a house, a cell phone, and that he was definitely not broke. he had a car accident in 1979, he almost had his legs removed; one leg is shorter than the other. he has pains even when it rains due to the humidity. he has bills to pay, he has good friends who help take care of him.

at first, i couldn't help but feel very angry, like he had been taking advantage of people's pity and had been begging for nothing. at first, i was very vindictive of what he was doing, and what he strived for everyday.

later that week, i saw him and as i was going up to him to confront him, a passing drunk lady was walking by and he asked her for some change. she just started yelling at him, calling him deadbeat, and a lazy bum, she called him out on everything i had just learned about him.

eventually her rage had gotten the best of her. she started hitting him in the face. he didn't defend himself. he just latched onto her and hugged her for all he was worth. she tried getting him off of her, but he wouldn't let go. she ended up pulling him off of his chair and they fell to the ground together.

he crawled his way up to her face, looked her dead in the eye, and with a most loathsome, deep, low voice, said, "look, i am NOT out here everyday, looking for money for a forty like you are. i don't lie, i don't say 'me and my boyfriend need to catch the bus, can you spare some change?' i DON'T tell people i cannot walk. all i ask for is some of their time, really. after spending 14 years kooked up in a house, just sitting there, watching t.v. and wishing my life were better, i realized the only thing that was holding me back was myself. i decided to come out here, day after fucking day, so i could at least have some sort of regular human contact with people, & it is people like you, that try to bring me down. get off of my case, LEAVE ME ALONE, go and get your effing booze money and go drink it someplace where you are welcome."

and with that he rolled off of her, crawled back to his wheelchair, and rolled away, crying. i was speechless. i didn't know what to say or who to say it to. a crowd had gathered. they had all seen what had just transpired. tourists and locals alike were amazed at such pure emotion, both sadness and anger at the same time, that they had heard in his voice as he told her these things.

i looked at the person next to me, an elderly women, maybe in her mid-sixties, and asked her, "can you spare some change today?"