Dec 10, 2008

Wherefore Art Though Hobo?

So here at the New School we get 175 big ones per semester to spend at our "cafeteria" but at the end of each semester your remaining balance is erased. One of my friends had spent about zero dollars this semester and didn't want all that money and potential overpriced organic food to go to waste. I met her after class at the supposed cafeteria where we loaded up four bags with drinks, sandwiches, bagels, cream cheese, cookies, crackers, you name it. Then we went out hobo hunting.

It's the holiday spirit, you know? Giving and all that. And we're in New York City, how hard can it be to find some beggars? Near impossible is the answer. We walked around for over two hours with these enormous and heavy bags looking for a homeless person. None. They had all disappeared. All we wanted to do was give away this food so we could go Christmas shopping. Win, win, win day. That was the plan. But no, our feet hurt, our arms killed us, I have some blisters on my hands from these goddamn bags. Eventually we had to ditch a bag of drinks near a subway entrance. It was survival. Then the lords above smiled on us and we ran into a very kind man asking for change. Hallelujah. Everyone left feeling good and we could finally go to the Marc by Marc store, the original plan for the afternoon. Then it rained.

And on this wonderful, dreary, exhausted, wet walk home do you know what we saw? About ten homeless men on the street asking for change and food. Where had they been four hours ago? There's no where else. It was as though someone had glamored us or done that creepy thing Tess did in Roswell where she overrides your vision. No other option. Some vampire or alien tried to stop our charity work.

And no my Battlestar Galactica won't load and I'm sore and tired and kind of hungry. But I have few groceries and don't actually have money to buy more until January. The irony.