Walking down Charles
at the corner of Franklin
a guy 4o-ish tan leather jacket
spattered with red (too light to be blood)
needed money to get his car from the parking deck.
“Sorry. Gave all my change to a guy up the street”
Walked away and then (well, I was in a good mood)
Turned back and said:
He said: “I know I look bad –
(black eye, and cut on his cheek bone)
I got kicked by a horse while working today”
Me: Where would that be?
Aquatic center for horses rehab.
I gave him the $7 he needed.
And what did I gain from this encounter?
A “Thank You” and a
[Did I believe him?. Not exactly,
but it seemed the oddest reason for a black eye. When I got home I googled.
The nearest aquatic center for horses is in Virgina2hours away]
2 weeks later. I’m walking down the street. Same guy – only this time his jacket is clean and the black eye and cut have healed – says “Can you help me? I’m not asking for money but I need to get my car out of the parking deck.”
“Sorry Try a new story” He shouts that he’s homeless. I walk on.