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2 August 2005
Alms for the poor
Last night, Chaitanya and I stopped at a Domino's pizza outlet on our way back from Wal-Mart. It was nearing half past nine and we were famished. Soon after I ordered our food, I fished out my wallet and held it on the counter. From nowhere, in walked a scruffy short middle-aged man. He had all the trappings of a tramp -- the torn and discoloured jeans, a week-old scraggly beard and supplicant eyes. He approached me by grabbing on to my arm and asked me for my name. It took me scant time to fathom what he was going to ask of me and I had already made up my mind as to what my response would be, but I went along and gave him my name somewhat ashamedly wearing a wan smile that seemed to goad him on.Soon after learning of my name and discarding it instantly, he held my hand closer and kissed it which unsettled me somewhat. He then started to reel out his rehearsed lines about him being homeless and having three kids to support as he started gesticulating with his hands. I was trying to make out if the man was a Latino or Caucasian or of mixed breed -- his unwashed oily-brown complexion did not give away much -- or if he correctly read me to be of an alien race for he took great pains to make his point across which given his objective was of paramount importance. He then suggested that he needed cereal as he gestured out a box with his hands, then prated on about not having had anything to eat for days on end sounding more and more desperate. Finally, he made his appeal for money which was what all of us -- Chaitanya, the bemused Domino's clerk from behind the counter who was pretending to look busy at the computer processing our order and myself -- were hoping he would do. But what did take me aback was his finishing flourish which given his hand-kissing should not have been so unexpected: he knelt down with folded hands and prayed and begged of me, then stooped to reach my feet. At this point I knew what he was getting to and I quickly evaded his face as he made do by appearing to kiss the floor I tread on (Chaitanya wryly remarked later what I should have said: not before my PhD).
Until such time it was all his show and his time to be performing giving me no leave either to offer him his rewards or to rebuke him but now he looked to me to complete the whole charade. I have to admit that his ground-kissing and the hand-kissing were quite forceful and was somewhat tempted to give him something but all my wallet had was a twenty-dollar bill and buying him a Domino's pizza would really only complicate matters. Thankfully however, I came to my senses with no time to lose and offered him my apologies and here is where I felt my position as a foreigner in this country acutely. For one thing, it is likely that the man would probably not have solicited an American. For another, had anybody else been in my position their refusal would have been more colourful -- surely a convincing lie, a strong dressing down, a silent reproof or in the best-case scenario for our solicitous bumpkin, a few dollar-bills (coins for his act would have been inappropriate and would no doubt lead to him castigating the alms-giver for parsimony). Sadly all I had to offer was a meek, backing-down "Sorry, I can't help you. Sorry.". At least there was no deceit.
Now, of course we had the encore. He was pained from my refusal although points should be deducted for not having persisted with his case which only gave his show away all that more openly. He screwed his eyes shut, drooped his shoulders -- all still while he was on his knees. He looked for the nearest place to lean and found the window sill where he placed his head. Now that he had been turned down, he was under no obligation to look earnest and hard as he tried he could not squeeze a drop of tear out. Instead he just mimicked the restrained bawling by convulsing and shrugging his shoulders though it did not last long. He stood up in a matter of seconds, made his way out and was gone in no time. I will not deny that I experienced some relief that this was all past us and we started reminiscing instantly about our just-departed company. Upon enquiries from Chaitanya, the Domino's clerk let us know that he was a regular who lurked around the parking lot and mall in anticipation of trying his act out on unsuspecting strangers and Indian graduate students.
