Need a Light? Urine Luck!
My boss and I went out DVD shopping on our lunch break yesterday (as it turns out, the man’s a veritable treasure map of good used media stores in the Toronto area). On our walk back to the office, we were both stopped by an old homeless man, who asked if either of us had a light. Since I was actually smoking a cigarette at the time, I admit it must have looked highly suspicious when I told the man that I did not.
In reality, I’m simply so used to getting pestered for anything I might have on me (spare change, a beer, a slice of pizza if I’m holding a Pizza Hut box) that I’ve usually already got a pre-emptive “No, sorry” ready before a homeless guy can even finish asking me for free things. That was the case here. I’d already primed myself for a “no” before I even registered that he didn’t want change.
(Those of you who might think this a bit monstrous of me should keep in mind that Toronto currently houses the largest homeless population in the civilized world. This means that if you were to hold up a quarter and walk six blocks in any direction, you would be asked for it some 228 times. I guarantee you by the 147th your sympathy runs a bit thin.)
I’d misunderstood his request, though to be honest I wouldn’t have given him my lighter even if I had understood the question, since he smelled overpoweringly of urine. Call me prejudiced, but my take is that anyone unmindful of peeing in their own pants is probably taking liberties with other areas of personal hygiene as well. I won’t bother conjecturing which liberties specifically; suffice it to say, though, that if you reek of your own pee you don’t get to touch my things.
My boss gave me a sideways glance as we walked, and I felt the need to explain myself. “He stank like pee,” I said, assuming this in and of itself would account for my reluctance to share my lighter. Apparently not, as we continued to walk in silence and he continued to give me a sideways glance.
“I didn’t want him touching my lighter,” I elaborated. “What, you would have given it to him?”
“Yeah,” he said–a bold stance to take on a divisive issue, and certainly a meaningless one, since he doesn’t even smoke. It’s pretty easy to claim you’d let homeless guys touch imaginary items in your possession. If we were going to play that game, I could have easily countered that the homeless guy had only to ask for any magical golden pigs I had on me, and they would be his. I took the moral high ground, though, mainly because he has the power to fire me, and instead changed the subject.
I open this up to you, the casual blog reader; feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments section below. Was I morally wrong to withhold my lighter from the urine-scented man? I put forward that I was not, and that it’s a perfectly reasonable stance to ask that anyone putting their hands all over my stuff not reek powerfully of their own dried filth. If they are unable to meet this bare minimum requirement, then as tragic as it is, I’m afraid their cigarettes must go unlit. I welcome your thoughts on the righteousness and/or callous barbarity of this policy.
November 11th, 2007 at 9:39 pm
And I thought I was the only one who hated the homeless.
November 25th, 2007 at 8:39 am
Yeah Luis! Let’s help Jay out with this dilemna a mere 3 years after he wrote it.
You were in the right Jay. His urine smelling ways aren’t even the real justification you need. It’s your lighter…you are not morally obligated to share it with anyone, even if the pope asked you to light his spliff.
December 17th, 2007 at 7:33 pm
free porn movie byeyumii