Drunken Pumpkin

It’s been a while since I spent much time in a large city. Recently, I was in Chicago while my wife did important things. Meanwhile, I walked around and got a shoe shine from some guy. But that’s a different story.

Where I live we don’t have a lot of overtly homeless people. I’m sure more than a fair number of folks spend their nights under bridges, but we don’t seem to have the hardcore homeless here. You know, the ones the ask for money in at least three different voices or shake a Starbucks cup at you. Being in Chicago brought a certain plight to my attention.

Years ago if you saw someone walking towards you apparently muttering to themselves you would either try to avoid drawing their attention, or prepare to dole out some cash for them to stop spitting on you. However, times have changed. Now if you see someone talking out loud will alone on the street it’s no big deal. It’s no big deal if their even screaming to themselves and gesticulating wildly. Chances are they’re talking to someone on their earbud cell phone. And, in the case of the screaming, their probably talking to their mother. Or, at least, my mother.

Now, in order to really know what’s going on with that guy talking to himself we have to actually pay attention to the conversation to realize that he’s complaining about the Government selling his pancreas to Guatemalan drug lords for kitty litter. And no one wants that. So, what happens? Everyone is talking on the phone, whether they have one or not, and listening to someone else’s conversation is rude. Consequently, the slightly loony homeless folks aren’t quite making quota anymore.

The real fun is that I see escelation on the horizon. In the past all you needed was a few key phrases and you were set for some cash. But these days you might need to REALLY shout “Gerald, give me back my teeth, or I’ll eat your pigeon with a rusty spoon!” instead of just muttering it to get enough for a cup of coffee out of those innocent tourists.

Me, I’m just waiting for the fake legs to come off in this war for my wallet. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been so pissed at that guy that shined my shoes. Tune in next time (which will be a little more regular now) and we’ll talk some more about the homeless and new recipes for pigeon.