1 APR 07: THE THREE-BEGGAR OPERA

Yes, I'm aware what day of the year this is - but I have a serious question. Did ANYONE get paid on Friday? Really? It was the busiest day for money-starved people that I've seen in all my years in Columbus. And not one of them was trying to scrape up the money to buy Cottonmouths playoff tickets.

BLOGGER BEGGAR #4 began the action about 2:30 p.m. Friday. "How ya doin'?" asked a slow-moving woman who passed my car in the Oakland Park shopping center parking lot on South Lumpkin Road.

"Hi," I said quietly without even glancing at her. It was "car day" in Serious Spring Cleaning, and I stayed focused on the thing I was dusting outside the car. Pitchmen thrive on eye contact, you know.

"Do you have 50 cents, so I can get a soda?" No one else was around in this part of the parking lot. So if I didn't help her, she'd have to walk on to the Hispanic shoppers who would have even more trouble understanding her mumbling.

There were two diet cola cans in the cup holders next to my front seat. But these were already-opened, sipped-from cans -- so it wouldn't be right to offer them to this woman. Besides, one of them might still have germs from my 103-degree fever weekend. What if she was good at memorizing license plate numbers?

"Tell you what...." I realized quickly where the easy answer was. It was also my laundry day, and the coin laundry had a soda machine inside. So I put the cleaning tools in the car, and escorted the woman toward inside. She offered no objection -- so maybe she really was thirsty for a drink, not hungry for money.

The woman sat down for a moment at the opposite side of the coin laundry from the soda machine. "What would you like?" I asked her.

"Sprite." We had a match, and she had no excuse for trying to negotiate something different -- like some exotic Vanilla Diet Dr. Pepper or something.

At this machine, the sodas cost 60 cents instead of 50 -- but the can of Sprite satisfied the woman. She took it, stood up and moved on her way. In Russell County before long, she might have to ask two people for change instead of one.

As beggars go, this one was downright tame and simple. The woman had an easy request, and was happy for me to make it. It didn't suddenly jump into a ride to Cusseta, or a request for half my items in the clothes dryer.

I drove home with a full hamper of clean clothes, put it all away and proceeded to finish cleaning the car in the driveway. It takes a while to do this annual project, because things can pile up in the back seats. Thankfully, I didn't find any forgotten riders buried under envelopes.

The big deed was done around 5:30 p.m., and I decided to walk a block away to Spectrum for a cup of "celebration soda" from the fountain. But barely after I crossed Second Avenue, BLOGGER BEGGAR #5 intercepted me. I was more in a mood for Mambo #5, but....

"I'm homeless, and I need a dollar to get me something to eat." A man named Mike actually held out his hand, and showed he had about 80 cents in change. Admittedly, I didn't think to ask what might be hiding in his pockets.

I still had pre-Sabbath tasks to do, and hoped to settle this beggar's need as quickly as the woman's. I pointed him toward Spectrum, where they serve hot dogs and Polish sausages on a rotisserie. But....

"If I go in there, they'll know I've been begging out here." Wow - another regular customer.

"So you can't eat anything in there?!" Regular blog readers will recall I've encountered other people in the Fourth Street "begging zone" who have been barred from convenience stores, for hitting on the customers. In this case, Mike wasn't even turned off by the fact that I held an empty cup in my hand.

I think Mike really wanted me to go inside Spectrum, buy him dinner and bring it outside. But I was reluctant to do this. What if I bought two hot dogs, walked outside and found him gone? Especially if he asked for relish, which I don't like on my hot dogs?

"What CAN you eat?" I asked to move things along.

"Kentucky Fried Chicken!" Mike answered authoritatively. Two bad KFC does business hookups with fish shops, instead of gas stations.

"Let's go," I pointed Mike in the other direction. "My car's one block away, and I'll take you to KFC." Some beggars would have backed out right there or tried to negotiate, but Mike decided to follow me. Perhaps he figured I wouldn't simply go home with an empty soda cup -- but he didn't know what was in my refrigerator.

"You walk pretty fast. You must walk for exercise," Mike said as he followed me. No, I actually hadn't walked outside in a week. But the faster I resolved
this interruption, the quicker I could return to my tasks -- and the less time Mike would have to think up other requests.

"We could eat there...." Mike said as we walked past Lil Kim's Cove, between Spectrum and my car.

"No, you named a specific business," I told him. Some people are heavy on brand loyalty. Besides, I think Lil Kim's is better known on Friday evenings for serving alcohol.

"I didn't think of that place," Mike explained.

"That's why you should think before you speak."

"Thinking can be hard." Which may help explain why Mike was homeless, while I was not.

Mike joined me in the car, for a rather quick drive to KFC at Ninth and Veterans Parkway. He apparently wasn't used to having a ride, as he stuck his head out the passenger's side window like a pet golden retriever.

"Are you looking for something?" I finally asked him.

"The air's just so refreshing," Mike told me. A few beggars might have been trying to bail out on me -- concerned I was really heading for the police station.

"You've been homeless -- how long?"

"Four months." It's become such a habit for Mike that he says he sleeps in "the Riverwalk bathroom." What a shame that Synovus doesn't set up a few cots in its lobby.

In mere minutes, we reached KFC - and Mike walked in and went straight to the counter. As I stood behind him waiting for the staff to provide help, a man standing outside the service-line barrier pulled the biggest surprise of all. "I need two dollars for a fix-a-flat, and I need to get to Spectrum up the street."

BLOGGER BEGGAR #6 had crossed my path, the third beggar of the day. Even with the price of gas approaching $2.50 a gallon, there still are times when drive-through lanes have advantages.

What made #6 a bit more complicated was that another man was standing alongside him. He apparently owed that man money to fix his flat tire, before he could move on to a Spectrum. "The first one," he said after I reminded him that Veterans Parkway only has about six Spectrums on it.

"I used to live in Atlanta," #6 continued -- as if that would influence my decision.

"I used to meet plenty of beggars there," I responded. "I once counted ten in 60 days. I kept score." That got me invited to Creative Loafing for an interview, but they never published my article about the "beggars' log." Maybe the editors expected me to beg for a paycheck, following the examples I'd been set.

(I actually once met a "begging tag-team" on a Saturday night in Atlanta, and gave both of them a free night's stay in my duplex. They amazed me, by happening to know all about gold chains which other people were selling in fast-food restaurants.)

It seems fair to say #6 and his buddy were dumbfounded by the answer I gave to his request for help. "First things first - this man has been homeless for four months. Let me finish with helping him, and then I'll get to you. We handle all beggars in the order in which they are received."

Since Mike said nothing to correct me, he turned out to be the biggest trump card I could have played to stop a beggar. The whole thing seemed fair to #6 and his buddy, so they walked to the other side of KFC and waited for Mike to be served. The two-leg dinner with two sides cost him $4.70 - and thankfully, they were out of biscuits. I didn't want to vacuum up crumbs for a second time today.

Perhaps #6 and his buddy also didn't realize that I knew the neighborhood. Across Ninth Street from KFC, there's a Car Quest Auto Parts store. "Have you checked there yet for your fix-a-flat?" I asked them as walked out the restaurant door.

"We're OK," #6 said as he started to walk away from me and the store and toward Veterans Parkway.

"No, you're not," I responded. His need still wasn't met, after all.

"We're OK," #6 insisted. It was as if he'd feel better getting hit by a car, than receiving car repair tools from me.

"He must not have needed it," Mike said when I returned to my car and explained what had happened.

"I don't know that for sure," I answered. The comment sounded judgmental - but then, Mike may have been exactly right. Perhaps #6 chose to have mercy on me, since I was already helping someone else. Or perhaps he wanted exclusivity rights.

I drove Mike and his two-leg dinner back to the Spectrum where we'd met. He took his food and found a shady spot along the back wall of the property. I still had my empty soda cup - and decided to fill it as fast as I could, and drive home.

We're at the "quarter pole" of 2007, and I'm only two people away from matching the begging total for all 2006. Is the word getting around, about what Mayor Jim Wetherington did for the homeless people under the Second Avenue Bridge? Or are that many people waiting for the new Kia plant to open?

(BLOGGER'S NOTE: Because of these unusual events, our "Hurtsboro Monday" item will be rolled over to another day. Monday's entry will be our annual "spring cleaning wrap-up" edition, and won't be posted until we're through with the cleaning - probably in the afternoon.)

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