Tuesday, November 06, 2007


I was sitting in the office the other day, working at my computer, minding my own business. My desk is right by the front door, as I am, among other things, The Receptionist.

A man walked in the door, so I got up from my chair and asked if I could help him. He smiled and handed me something. While I was looking at what he had handed me, he walked toward the back cubicles. Here is what he gave me:

WTF, people? I don't even know what to make of this. And neither did my co-workers. I mean, was this guy truly deaf and trying to make a living (which I HIGHLY DOUBT), or was this just another scam?

My office building is situated in what might be called a sketchy neighborhood. Not terrible, but definitely low income. And boy, do we have some characters around here.

There's Colorado Bob, a drunk who wanders the neighborhood all day collecting cans for the nickel refunds. When he gets enough for a bottle of beer, he heads for the grocery store, gets his beer, drinks it, then starts all over again. It is not unusual for Bob to be three sheets to the wind by eight in the morning, so I am assuming he also imbibes something other than beer. And he's filthy. And smelly. And if you greet him, he will TALK YOUR EAR OFF, slurring his words and weaving back and forth.

Elvis is often sighted in this neighborhood. Elvis is this tiny little man who dresses like a cowboy, right down to the (toy, I hope) six-shooters. He is always color-coordinated, and he has several different-colored cowboy getups. I have no idea whether his name is really Elvis, or whether they call him that because (maybe) he used to dress like Elvis, or what. Elvis gets around - he can be spotted all over the city - and everybody knows of him.

Our office is in a mixed-use building, and there are two apartments on one end. A few times over the years, drug dealers moved in, and it was interesting watching their clientele, until the landlord kicked them out. Oh yeah, there was a hooker living there once too, and she always took a bedpillow with her when she went out. All the comforts of home, I guess. And a drunk guy lived there once; he used to stagger out into the parking lot in the middle of the afternoon and rant and rave until the cops came and took him away.

So I have no idea if this flag-distributing guy is for real, or just more of the "local color". Hard to tell. I mean, I know that the vets selling the poppies are legit (they are legit, aren't they?), but I've never seen them going door to door. Or maybe they do, and they've just never come to my door.

1 comment:

Kerri said...

Wow, it has been years since I've seen or remembered this particular 'charity'. I believe it is real, but doesn't it still really irritate you? Somebody always wants your money!