Two tales from the city.

Last Wednesday I biked by Wells Fargo after work to deposit some checks and cash.  Some guy asked me for money as he headed for the liquor store.  I told him I wouldn't give him any money, but I would consider helping him buy something if he had need.  He declined.  A second person approached me shortly thereafter, also seeking funds.  She proclaimed her need for bus fare and I said I would pay her fare but I wouldn't give her any money.  She asked me if I was going to seriously walk into the bus and put the money in the fare box, and I replied straigforwardly 'yep!'  

-Look, I'm not going to buy something else with it, can I just have the money??  It's going to be like half an hour.  You don't want to wait, do you?? 

-I'm going to deposit my money, then we can just hang out while we wait.  Okay?

-Alright then.....

(comes back 5 minutes later)

-Tell you what, will you just buy me a 40?? We can split it and drink it right over there (points at bench on Franlin Ave, a bustling avenue through the Seward neighborhood in Minneapolis.

-Nope, thats not a good idea.  You want to get a pint?  We can just go down the road? 

(many exchanges regarding life story were juxtaposed in between all comments.  Due to the exciting, extravagant, creative, and pity worthy quality, they were taken with a grain of salt.  

We later went down to Pizza Luce for a Surly Furious and exchanged life stories.  She explained her dark past, addiction to alcohol, trouble with men, earning money in a doing what she had to do kind of way.  That day, the only thing that allowed me to enjoy a beverage with Connie was realizing we aren't all that different. We both experience pain, don't like it, and find ways out of it.   I told her that the only guy I know that won't fail her is the only guy that hasn't failed me ('cause me and any other guy we both knew, couldn't handle her pain)  is Jesus.  

And I realized I had just told her the very thing that I myself needed to hear.  This was a great afternoon. 

Just biking home from work again, down 11th Avenue just blocks south of downtown proper, and my trusty red steed of a cycle found itself navigating 270 degrees toward a pan handler.  He definitely noticed me and made a point not to acknowledge me, but instead facing the oncoming traffic seeking his daily 'wage'.   After several cars had passed, upon being offered some JJ's chips (who doesn't love JJ's??) he returned them, having originally accepted them.  (insufficient room in his bag)  His inebriated but still mostly coherent sentences were generously spaced out.  

A middle-aged Somali woman dressed in traditional garb approached in the distance, answered a typical Somali greeting and kept walking, until she passed by Bill.  There was a quick exchange and she handed him something, and crossed on her way.  Bill then looks down in disgust, slamming a penny to the ground.  WHAT GOOD WILL THAT DO ME??  You know what that shows, -he directed his social commentary in my direction as I clipped back in-  that shows her belief that she has culterally assimilated within our country.  By her giving me money...

You know what a F______ penny shows?? It shows she can just come over to America and give me a penny.  Does she know how many American's had to die for her to be able to give me that money??? He spat angrily in my general direction before staggering back to the worn ground from whence he came.  I mulled these lessons over as I rejoined my original itinerary.  

Again, I could be substituted for either the Somali woman, pretending from her religious actions of giving a shameful gift to be generous, or to be Bill, who's laziness, self pity and judgement only spiral downward as he self-medicates with the ever deceptive escape in alcohol.  We too, are very similar.  My judgmental thoughts quickly dispersed as I considered these.  

What an interesting city and what interesting people fill it.  

cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com