By Allan Evans This is to all the well-wishing people who unwittingly gave in to my exaggerations and downright fabrications when I asked for spare change.
You became my enablers. When I was too dropped-down drunk to get my own money to drink, I was handed it by people who actually believed I was hungry, or had a flat tire, or a sick dog.
It doesn’t help a sinking ship when you toss another bucket aboard to bail out with. It may slow down the inevitable, but little more. When you gave me money, it was just a little slow down of my painfully quirky slow suicide.
I never felt good about it. All my smiles of gratitude were forced.
Don’t get the idea that I didn’t appreciate the thought. I want to make it clear-that in my case anyway, giving me spare change only prolonged the anxiety I was trying to escape.
Had nobody given in to me, I would have been forced to realign my life much earlier. It took the better part of two decades for me to see the light clearly enough that I finally put in the necessary effort to get off the streets once and for all.
Having someone ready to give up their change is like showing an alcoholic where to get free beer. Please do something else with your change. Too many of us need the nudge to find what we really want.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on April 25, 2008. Read the original PDF.