The Conscientious Beggar

Upon entering a train station, I could Barely Blink when a homeless dude politely asked me for eighty-two cents. I wondered whether this currency specific beggar was financially savvy enough to decipher the difference between eighty-two or forty-two cents - if I were to submit to his meticulous request.

 

Then, he offered details, “I need to get home, but I’m short eighty-two cents.” I marveled at his bold and cunning attempt to capture more than just a handsome penny by virtue of his pity politics. I refrained from inquiring the total fee for his journey, and whether his destination was the corner of Walk and Don’t Walk or a seedy dwelling below the Brooklyn Bridge.

 

Perhaps this Pythagoras could have been a successful banker, had Uncle Sam not screwed him below the Brooklyn Bridge. Instead, he is the Ben Bernanke of tax free income with eighteen cents interest on each eighty-two cents he deposits in his torn trousers.

 

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