Rest of You

Panhandling in Midtown

There’s a short, dark man with a long white beard, a red, yellow, and black hat, and a ring with the star and moon of Islam that takes the same train as I do, every day. I assume he lives in my neighborhood, or nearby. Two days ago I sat next to him on the way home from my day at school and noticed he had a cleanly stacked pile of one bills he was counting. Roughly $25 in ones and a pocket full of change. Seeing this made me wonder if perhaps his daily route is to and from his own specific panhandling spot of the city. And I was reminded I have options.

Yesterday I went to work at TED in the morning wearing a button down shirt, then to a meeting at the NYU Medical Center, then I put on my jacket and spent 2 hours in Midtown on 33rd St and Lexington panhandling.

I sat in one place, never stood up. I didn’t bug people, just asked “spare change?”, shook my cup, and briefly responded when talked to. I won’t divulge my instantaneous stereotyping that occurred, but I did receive a “Get a f@#%-ing job”, “You’re a good lookin’ guy - you don’t need to bring yourself down to this.”, “But you’re so young! Why are you on the corner?”, “You’ll find a job”, a pat on the back, and a lot of insincere smiles. I used the $11.81 I was able to gather to buy myself dinner, and when I got off the train at Astor Place on my way back to ITP, and passed by the man that sits in front of Delion every day, I still didn’t know how to say no.