I worked at my homebranch yesterday. It was a short shift, and nothing significant happened except that some guy who remembered me from Emily Carr (my elementary school) worked there. I'm embarrassed to say I couldn't for the life of me remeber him. His name was John. The only John I remember lived on my street - Johnny we called him - but i'm certain it wasn't him. Like most big businesses try to tell their employees, I suppose TD Canada Trust really is a family.
So, after work I stopped at the neighbouring McDonalds and bought a McFlurry to comfort me as I walked home. After stepping out with my Strawberry Shortcake desert, I walked for about a minute before I heard, "You're not really eating Ice cream!" I should mention, it was like -10C with a windchill of -22C. I looked over and it was a portly woman, seemingly impoverished. I couldn't think of anything witty so I said, "Heh, yea!" She walked faster to catch up to me and said something unimportant to keep my attention. I waited for it and it came, she asked me for some change. I said, "I don't have..." and she said, "If you could spare even a penny sir I'm just so very cold." I said, "All I have is what I got back from the McFlurry," my first lie.
She repeated her claim about being uncomfortably cold. I reached into my pocket while chatting with her about something. I felt around, felt like 6 coins, and new the biggest one was a twonie. I was about to give her the whole wad, then I remembered, the twonie wasn't really mine, it was either Visa's, Mastercard's or UofT's, I owe all of them more then I owe her; a sad commentary I think, all of my creditors are doing pretty well for themselves, whether I pay them or not, but I made the choice to save myself the interest they would charge me rather then give this lady money.
So I pulled out 2 coins, and said, "This is all I got," my second lie. Pennies feel a lot like quarters in deep pockets, and I was embarrased by the two cents that hit her palm. I was about to say, "Wait there's more!!" when she interrupted me and said, "God Bless You." That hurt. Who among us has ever given such praise for such measely returns? I stubbornly continued and told her I had more. She said something that struck me; she said, "I know how it is, I'm the same way," referring to me eating the ice cream in the freezing cold, when that's neither logical nor practical. I'll come back to that. Anyway, I reached in my pockets and pulled out all the change except for the twonie (that's serious money to me, okay? I'm broke!) and a quarter as well, only because my fingers are horribly immobile. So she got like 50 cents from me or something, I didn't count. She repeated her praises and we parted ways.
So as I passed West Hill and began down the hill I started to think about what she said.
We are the same way, I think. Here I am eating an ice cream, fulfilling an immediate pleasure despite the fact that there were so many better ways I could've spent my money. I could've given my McFlurry money to Visa, mastercard, UofT, that Lady, something warm to drink, or something healthy to eat, or into a pair of warm sweat pants for school (it's a cold, cold bike ride) or lotion for my skin that gets crazy dry in the winter. I chose none of those; I stood opposed to the net of practicality and acted from my impulsive human nature and chose freedom!!! (In a cup)
We are the same way, I think. Here she is standing outside on a cold winter's night. She gets 50 cents from me, and as goes the stereotype, she will probably accumulate enough money to buy some cigarettes, or liquor which will make her feel warm, but will actually drop her core temperature. She didn't look like a drughead, so I doubt she'll be buying that. In fact given her approximate weight (which was maybe more then mine I think) chances are she was eventually making her way back to the very McDonalds that gave me the change. And yet, although she had several choices of fast food places to invest her money in, within 1 block there were maybe 3 banks she could be investing her daily income in. I'm not being insensitive here, it has been shown, not through emprical studies, but through the lives of actual documented bums, that you can make a mean living off begging and saving, enough to even afford rent! If you do it right of course. Most likely, she did none of that; she'll stand opposed to the net of practicality and act from her impulsive human nature and chose freedom!!! (In a bottle)
So how are we different? When you're in my position, my choice for freedom isn't a cost on society. In fact it helps fuel the economy; efficient financial intermediation from a TD employee to a Cashier at McDonalds. When you're in her position, our taxes pay for the government housing she resides in, or for the policeforce that will pry her off of a city park bench, if she doesn't choose the housing. And of course, there's lost aesthetics in a city full of beggars, the more right-wing of us would prefer not to see them, (and really, never do!) Then again, I wasn't very aesthetically pleasing either licking away at my spoon getting every pennies worth of my treat.
So when I came to this conclusion I revisted that feeling of compassion for the less fortunate, because I realised that the beggar is in us all, just in different ways, and when it comes down to it, I just have a better support system around me to keep me out of her situation. I can live beyond my means, and go to school, pay for it later, buy a phone, pay for that later, and society won't hate me for it, in fact they'll help me provide for it. What seperates me from her is simply the situation I was born into, a comfortable situation indeed. I'd like to think I would be that entrepreneurial beggar, who saves the money and makes a life for himself. But I'm a university student rather then a hustler. And so I've already proven to the world that I'm the type of person to make low-risk, low-return decisions. Get a degree, get a safe job, to make safe money, and do what I please with that money. This is a depressing point that my finance professor pointed out to us last lecture. Just one more reason why university graduates should never be smug!
As a final note, while writing this post, I realised I should've walked back with the lady and bought her a tea or coffee. I get so nervous when I see bums, not cuz their bums and I fear them or nothing, just when people ask me for money I feel awkward, cuz all sorts of thoughts like my last 1000 words rush to my brain immediately. Next time.
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