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There seems to be a large scale invasion of down and outs that work 8 mile and I-75 and the Woodward 8 mile interchange and wander and panhandle north and south of 8 mile on Woodward.Shiftless and sneaky, dread locked and freaky,crazy and lazy, wasting time and plotting crimes. One guys is really clean, panhandles nine and Wood, middle age white dude dresses like a teen,tried hustling me ..
The 8 Mile Rd. and Woodward overpasses has been a panhandlers den for many years. The police can't take them out. They have the right to beg. We're not sure they are homeless or not. But its their business to make a quick buck.
America is a free enterprise capitalist nation. You play by the rules of the society or left get behind.
The question is how they go about "panhandling"-invasively or not?
Many towns had developed strong rules regarding what a homeless person can do. Some towns decree that the panhandler must stay a certain distance from any business and/or that they are kept only to "shaking a cup" or "flying a sign". I agree with many of these rules, as you really don't want guys obstructed and harassing folks. Although I was homeless a few times, I never once panhandled, and often had others do so to me as I honestly hustled about trying to work and reclaim my self-empowerment [[which is easier in some towns versus others).
Lots of the rules also apply to street vendors-for many Homeless Coalitions [[Boston, Cincinnati, etc.) even print up newspapers that spotlight homelessness, address issues, give a voice to the homeless [[at rare times condescending to them, if not treating their concern as a superficial front that is ancillary with another agenda they may have in mind-like pushing for socialism, as I saw in Madison-which did not last long), etc. and allow vendors to buy a stack of them at a small price, get a badge, get a set of rules [[or they get revoked of their badge), and allow them to sell the papers for a base [[suggested donation) price of a buck [[or more if the buyer feels inclined). In the case of Cincinnati, it's one of the few things going for some folks [[I even did it for a month).
Just recently, I've seen a cluster of three very young kids [[two of them white) at Moross and 94. I talked to the girl as I dug out scarves, mugs, hand warmers, socks, etc. for them [[all I can do) from my back seat. She claimed she was from Detroit, and that she is with her boyfriend, and that her grandmother died. I also helped a young African American [[who seemed kind of clean-cut) kid. It seemed suspicious. I don't think they are from Detroit, but they don't seem like the "Oogle punks" [[many of them hail from Massachusetts and camp out around the "pit" in Harvard Square. I first encountered them in Madison and Iowa City, and they seemed cool just very filthy. Many activists I knew didn't like them, because they were these obliterist types who've given up and just tool about in their army clothes-stitched with dental floss-and mean dogs on leashes, doing what ever drug they can find, hopping trains-spike rail in hand-in clans, pan handling, being filthy, and quite armed-!) I've seen on my travels.
I fished about in conversation with the girl if they "belonged" to something, because there was a brash of pan handlers at 8 Mile and Southfield Fwy. with the messed up Deeper Life cult from Florida [[Louisville-a religious city that cares for it's poor-got rid of these scammers.http://www.whas11.com/story/news/loc...0/08/15200600/andhttp://www.whas11.com/story/news/loc...0/08/15228104/ ) that teaches a proto-prosperity/Pentecostal [[closed-circuit thinking-demons and all that) scam that really exploits the desperate poor, makes them collect money for them all day, and keeps them in shabby conditions. I had a friend from New York who had his meds and mail stolen at one of their "shelters" in Louisville, while he was certain children were being molested in the balcony section of the abandoned church [[I also ran into a guy from Chicago who was offered to join them in Detroit, but he sniffed it out as B.S.). They were the last to have the Easttown Theater, and I recently saw their "bright vest crew" pan handling during the Telegraph cruise this last summer.
Yeah, so I can't tell you where these scrubbed types are coming from, becasue no one homeless comes to Detroit to vacation [[or Michigan for that matter for the charity. As one upset out-of-town woman at a Kroger's said "Michigan is the 'not my problem state'").
I've learned with much experience that the rudest "pan handlers" or "s'pangers" aren't even homeless and don't even care about the money. They don't go to any of the community kitchens, stay at any shelters, or frequent any of the social service centers provided for them. They act rude and operate with a strange impunity in the areas that give them the most exposure [[Harvard Square, etc.). That sadly gives folks the wrong impression of the homeless [[much like the bullhorn screaming/fire-and-brimstone pamphlet guys who show up at fairs and functions or the many T.V. evangelists given huge cart-Blanche seem to be folks' only "impression" as to what "Christianity is about". Think carefully about that one!). I remember one who perched himself in front of the Cambridge Food Co-op every day [[and went nowhere else), and once I saw at the end of the day, a very nice red convertible swing around; he threw his sign away into the trash, hopped in the passenger seat, and roared off with his contact. Another "good day" of smearing the rep of the poor and jeopardizing the funding of social services attending to the genuinely needy.
I lie to you not.
It is in the general area of Woodward and 8 Mile where it has been known, as reported to me by an eagle-eyed crime stopper, that Adrianne Michelle Jones [[Michigan Offender 965533) has been recently seen...28 years old, blondish/brown hair, brown eyes, 5'8", 118lbs, scars on both arms, Baby Phat stomach tattoo [[how ridiculous/gross)...hitting up unsuspecting do-gooders and then robbing them of cash and credit cards. Can be scruffy and dirty looking and much into the local candy store goods.
I spoke to one of those guys a few months ago on my way to Highland Park. First time I had ever seen a panhandler with a website! He had it written out on his cardboard sign LOL! Nowadays people often don't have cash on them, so he accepted donations online via Paypal.
I have no problem helping those in need, but I no longer give cash to strangers that ask for it [[Most are simply scammers or just plain lazy). I informed that guy about a large auction I was heading to in Highland Park and told him there would be a ton of people there looking for help loading trucks [[There were). It was just a short walk or bus trip down the road, but he never showed. I assume it's much easier to sit on the sidewalk and beg than actually get off one's ass and work for a dollar.
On Quarton a few feet west of Woodward the same middle aged white guy has been there for months. All summer and all through the fall. Its always him, never anyone different. You would think he would have found some type of job by now.
He has....Quote:
Originally Posted by softailrider
I know whom you are writing about the website is www.spangling.comQuote:
Originally Posted by Johnnny5
I don't think that's the right link...it's about Bangkok.
When I was first living off of 8 mile in my young 20's, a group of dope fiends lived on the HP side in a small apartment building on Muir. Everyday they would take shifts working the 8 and 75 overpass, then walk over to the trap spot a block over from where my people stay, and walk right back into HP just blew out. This was full time for them, and they would occasionally get stopped by the police, but not enough to put a damper on their activities. Their neighbors hated them and eventually ran them out using violence.
I, the non-dope fiend with an actual paycheck job, got stopped walking back and forth across 8 mile over 40 times in 5 years. Yes that's forty with a 4 and a 0. The cops even gave me a nickname one winter because of my red Adidas coat. Red Riding Hood... the jerks, Lol.
Lately the police have been finding the local fiends dead with their hands cut off in the back streets by the fairgrounds [[one reason of many that prompted the raid where that fed got shot 2 weeks ago). If you are seeing the same people working that intersection over the course of some weeks or months then I would surmise that they live nearby but are not H users, or they would have died or moved on already.
And thanks for the tip ThunderTrap.
Interesting that no one has yet mentioned the folks at 8 Mile and Southfield. They don't seem to be the same people all the time, but there's always someone there.
It seems to be spreading all over the place. Over at Fairlane Green aka "the hill" in Allen Park, there have been some folks around the parking lots. Plus, I've seen some in Taylor around the Southland Mall area. Another place is around Michigan Ave & Outer Dr in Dearborn, folks are always around asking for bus fare money. I used to see, on occasion, some folks around the I-94 service drive & Mt. Elliott area too, but I think the people who run the Bargain Dollar Resale may have encouraged them to move along.
I've seen one or two at Fairlane Green as well.Quote:
Originally Posted by jackie5275
What was truly strange was that about this time last year, I started seeing several women out panhandling, mostly near 8 mile and 75. A couple of middle aged white women, a middle aged black woman and a young looking black girl.
That's riskier for a woman than a man so I would assume they are truly in dire straights, but that too could be part of the scam.
Precisely why I questioned the boy and girl at Moross if they were with some group [[Ste. Anne's gets harassed by a rude-acting man claiming to be a "Vet" and that he's collecting for "local Vets"-a serious offense, if he's lying on both counts. He provides a false identification every time he comes for the food pantry, and he has been justly kicked out of there many of times.). They claimed they were not.Quote:
Originally Posted by jackie5275
Could be connected to a cult like Deeper Life/Faith or this one my brother pointed out from http://www.fox2detroit.com/news/loca...53646269-storyClinton Townshiphttp://www.christianpost.com/news/mi...n-cult-116122/. Yeah, turning kids against their parents is like it were Berg's Children of God cult all over again: sexually messing with folks, claiming a closer connection to God than anyone else-not what one wants to run into letting your kids roam around a decrepit, darkened laser tag facility with virus-minded freaks skulking about.
Care for a Massage/Message from the "Prophet"?
In the matter of helping folks I leave it at folk's better discretion. Money is not the best option to be giving many folks [[especially in Detroit), as you may end up enabling what may be their personal perpetual dysfunction.
Carry food, clothes, gym bags/backpacks, and a variety of hygiene products in a tackle box like I do. I was content with food [[that I can eat safely with no reaction to) and durable clothes when I traveled; I never asked for money, and I often turned down money and rides [[but sometimes relented-especially, if no strings attached) offered to me.
A motel room to myself was always a nice bonus [[ahhh! a nice hot bath soak after a cold night of hiking-never could take that for granted.) given to me by many thoughtful souls who asked for nothing in return [[-nothing weird or kinky-heck! I wouldn't have gone along with it, if it were.) when I was on the road [[one even provided to me by an off-duty C.O. from a nearby Illinois jail). Likewise, I was blessed to give back the favor to some needy folks when I was working in Madison and staying at a half-way home [[one such incidence around the first snowfall of the holidays involved the daughter-in-law and grandchild of an elderly man-who stayed at the same place I was at-disgusted in his son's behavior towards them).
The problem with Motel rooms is: a.) There are some motels where you only want to sleep fully clothed "on" the sheets and not casually "in" them". Yeah, I've had to stay in those kind of places. b.) If you are purchasing a motel room for someone else out of the charity of your own heart [[much like the Good Samaritan man did), that is on you; any damage that person does there can be traced back to your credit card. So be careful!
If a person asks for money, ask is it 'because they are hungry?'. If they say yes, give them a plethora of food options [[if they make up excuses, than you know they are jiving you, and keep a mental record of who they are.).
Better still, get a listing of all the food pantries/community meals in the area and give them a copy, so they are without excuse. Even most Catholic Parishes running a food pantry in a region that a troubled person/party visiting them is not from-thus, not covered by that parishes pantry guidelines, have a policy of doing a one-time only service of providing emergency assistance for that troubled person/party.
As a member of the National Coalition for the Homeless, I did just that kind of work [[making a revised and exhaustive list of resources that rivaled that of the ones passed out at the Multiservice Center) in Cambridge, and kept people quite informed as to where they can get all the resources they needed rather than panhandle a fellow homeless person. One thing I will hand to Boston/Cambridge, at least every night of the week there would be one location serving a meal that provided a vegetarian option. That was a plus!
It is not easy doing that kind of work here in Detroit, because there is a lot of outdated information, places shutdown, no one answers phones, things are spread far out and far between, and many organizations seem to compete and not want to work with each other [[it is not surprising that anywhere I go, some places will neglect to mention in their lists the Catholic Charities which do a far better job than them in the areas of charity. Many times, a Salvation Army in a particular town, would just happen to fail to mention the reliable Catholic Church down the way that has been providing a good service for a very long time.).
The two best things a down-and_out person always needs to start off to survive with [[and you can write this in stone) is a good, durable bag [[book, gym, backpack, etc.) and plenty of information.
In the last two weeks, I have offered help to ten persons in need, half of them gratefully accepted the assistance of socks, gloves, and clothes [[including the kids at Moross and an old man flying a sign at Greenfield near the creepy Old Northland Mall where "that old caretaker scares off Scooby and the gang with his spooky voodoo mask"-snerf.).
Most will eye some white dude suspiciously and decline [[probably with a suspicion justified by much bad experience. I refused the "Vension" swimming in some kind of sauce -Salt Peter? Perhaps? served by a "Catholic" group that wore orange vests and gave away condoms-!?-at James Madison park. One lady kept insisting on "lightening my burden" by wanting to store up my bag in the back of her minivan. I refused, but one guy who did let her was shocked to find she took off with the Minivan and his bag. No parish in the area knew of such operating group. Yeah, that and the "ministry" guy from "H.O.P.E." giving away stolen bikes to the homeless-only to get them busted, were not only fine examples of ugly "anti-homeless work" going on in Madison I witnessed firsthand back in 2005, but it is a drop in the bucket of many examples I witnessed in all my travels that justify why the poor may have to turn down more "opportunities" than they should accept-difficult as that may be for some of us to understand.) any assistance I offered. Oh well. Yet, even the "Vet" flying a sign at 75 and Mack didn't want socks and goods-only money.
One of the guys I helped was man with a white beard around Chalmers pushing a handcart with some milk crates on it. I approached him. He was heading to a Catholic pantry, but he didn't mind that I gave him clothing, coat, shoes, and hygiene products. We talked about the old Easttowne Theater. He had a very elderly father with dementia in a home, and he was staying at a home he may lose soon. His name was David Moore, and when we talked about Kentucky [[because I threw out Louisville as an option for him if things get really bad), he mentioned that his family's only claim to fame was that his mom was of the last descendant of the Hatfields [[from Hatfield-McCoy fame). So, if you see the guy-he could use the help.
Just wanted to mention that.
I will leave you with this one holiday story, and you do not have to read the first anguished, exhaustive paragraph, but at least it will help explain and justify the conclusion to this tale:
Christmas 2011 in Boston sucked. I was doing activist work with F-N-B and a dwindling Occupy movement [[yet, that didn't stop us from getting a strange and encouraging pizza delivery from an "Anonymous" source-three veggie and one meat-lovers-classic Discordian touch added there). I had a cr*ppy job [[all of them involved dung at some point) I bike commuted to [[with a strange amount of periodic icepick-sized pinhole leaks in my tires) on the opposite side of Cambridge [[where all the Ja'mokes yell at you and attempt to cut you off as you pedal along in the bike lane). I worked six months to get into a "dry and safe" shelter only to find out the shelter head and his staff were "activist" phonies who kept dangerous elements in there [[the crackhead pedophile, the thieving Bulgarian, the annoying male prostitute who passed out face-first in his food every night, an unfortunate man with wet-brain who got kicked out for lice and ended up drinking himself to death in another shelter, and the two Hispanic jailbird vets who ranted openly threatened folks-including me). Matthew Stuart [[brother of the notorious Charles) had just overdosed at a different Cambridge shelter I had stayed at [[yet, I left when one of the staff member sexually harassed me. I was bribed with a unlimited Voicemail service by the shelter head, and the staff member eventually got kicked out for a similar infraction many months later). I had already suffered a kidney stone, a sinus infection, an U.G.I. obstruction, and some variety of viral infections every two months. I was doing volunteer work for at least two facilities a week [[other than F-N-B-yet, there was a mentally challenged guy who had me beat, as he worked them all every night-now, there's a caring soul who gives me hope in this world!). I was disappointed with the many times I tried to treat my girlfriend from Uganda to a meal out somwhere, as most places in Boston were overpriced and sucked [[echhh, flat-crust pizza!). I was sick of the panhandlers in "the Pit" around "Mental Scare" [[Central Square-downtown Cambridge), the jive artists on the Redline, and the Listerine/Cologne drinkers passed out on the lawn of City Hall. Meanwhile, I was told the cat that rescued from a tree in Dearborn two years ago, had run off.
Whew! All that said, I needed a day off. With a little money saved [[what would be cigarette, pop, and lottery cash for others) I wanted to take a day off down in Rhode Island to take some photos and find my brother a Jazz CD to send him for Christmas. One of the Kevins from R.I. at our shelter [[a real cool guy who loved books but got fed up with the harassments of the two "Vets" and took off) told me if I want good food down in R.I., head to Federal Hill.
I left early that morning, bought a $14 two-way for the purple Commuter rail, listened to Horace Silver [[or was it The Cure?) on my Discman for an hour as I headed down there, got a full day bus pass, and ran myself silly. I found out the Occupy in Providence was far more tight-knit and serious [[much like the one in Cincinnati). They had a focused and legitimate list of goals-one of which being a demand for a dry shelter in Providence. This was because assistance to the poor is abysmally lacking in R.I. [[most just head up to Cambridge), and what few homeless that remain down there, are really, really impaired folks who don't know better as to where to go.
Seeing as everything is within 20 minutes of Providence, I had no trouble getting around and visiting Brown [[got lots of pics of art there), Fox Point, R.I.T., Warren, or the cool Steel Yard http://www.thesteelyard.org/meet/Fra...Emanuel_Barada.
The evening ended up with me at Federal Hill. This was truly very Italian and full of abundance. Yet, when I walked up and down the area, I noticed none of the display menus showed prices; that was a big cue that I was in over my head. I didn't want to go to some pay-by-the-slice flat crust pizzeria around the corner that I couldn't sit down in. I had a little extra bit of cash, I wanted to sit down to a warm meal [[instead of the staple of granola, Peanut Butter, and Apples I ate every-dang-day-"Krunchy Kid" food as the other Kevin from R.I. called it.).
Finally, I sat down in a nice, quaint family place called Angelo's [[much like the Italian places in Dearborn). I had a big plate of Broccoli Fettuccine Alfredo [[with much Parmesan sprinkled on top), watched as guys sang carols to folks dining, and watched the little train make it's rounds near the ceiling. Much like Michigan dining [[and unlike Boston dining) I had plenty of leftover portions to take back with me. It was the perfect cap off to a nice day.
As I headed back near Waterfront Park [[no torches.), I was hit up by a young panhandler. He looked no different that the scores of annoying junkies I see around the Pit or on the Redline. I sighed and asked "are you hungry". He said "yeah" and that is why he's hitting people up. I sighed again and opened up by Styrofoam box and said "would you eat this?" His eyes lit up and grew huge. "Really?! No Way!" I gave it to him and a plastic fork [[I carry many on me), and he was like "Thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou." He feverishly dug into it, and I said that's all I have to give you, and he said "No, really man, thank you, this is all I need." We said Merry Christmas and God Bless each other [[noone in Boston/Cambridge says "God Bless You"-sneezes just hang silently in the air awkwardly after someone performs them-yet, I like John Cleese's suggestion.). I walked away, and as I looked back, I could see he was still happily working on those leftovers. I haven't seen that much appreciation since Iowa City, IA.
Getting on the Commuter Rail back, I didn't mind giving my much earned leftovers to someone who really appreciated it. I put Eno/Fripp on my Discman as we headed back, and fell into a deep, contented nap.
Thanks for reading, and Happy Holidays.
Quote:
Originally Posted by G-DDT
Man. Your posts are like giant roller coaster rides. Cool. Merry Ecksmas to you too.
Amen to that. Great posts in the spirit of our late Django.Quote:
Originally Posted by canuck
I have not noticed an increase in hobo-ism. They've always been there, as long as I have memory. I've never encountered a rude one. They've always smiled and waved at me even though I don't give them money.
The economy is pretty good right now and places are hiring. If these folks wanted a job, they more than likely could get one.
I'll donate money to charities that provide services for folks in need, but I don't give poor people money because I don't want my hard earned cash to go toward booze and cigarettes.
"...Shiftless and sneaky, dread locked and freaky,crazy and lazy, wasting time and plotting crimes..."
Poetically stated! I am kidding, terryh.
There was a character who moved between Los Angeles and Las Vegas, with a sign that read: "Why lie? I need a beer", in the 1990s. I saw him in both locations, many times. Outside the Rose Bowl, where the Rolling Stones were performing, he had boxes full of beer in cans that people had given him. I wondered how he was going to get them to wherever he called home.
They've been there for a while now.
Once the flyover was finished with the renovation, it took a few months for them to come back to that location. A few weeks ago, DPD was there at the south underpass. There was a garbage truck there, too and they were shoveling all of the shit into that back of the truck. I slowed down that thanked them for cleaning up all of the crap left by the folks who don't give a shit. The one guy, dreds, mentioned above, just throws shit over the side and down on to the under pass part of the flyover.
I've knew a couple of choice folks who thought it was cool to be on the streets; made them feel "alive", man. Lost track of them over the years and I wouldn't be surprised one bit if both of them are landfill by now.
How alive does it feel, now?
I have to admit there is quite the heavy upswing in panhandlers [[got hit up by some on-the-fly freelance car maintenance guy who approached me at a gas station in Taylor today-his approach was the equivalent of "Hey! you got ring around the collar, are you ever gonna take care of that?!") and sign flyers [[all the corners of Lodge and Forest around the Wayne State area have someone with a sign). Sr. Mary at St. Pat's says this shouldn't be happening; the resources folks should be accessing should be available.
My only two theories are: a.) It is some kind of cult or movement putting these folks out there. Or more likely- b.) Folks not normally given to panhandling are seeing the very low-tide of donations that would normally be coming in around this time of year. So, they figure they got to ply a little attempt to wrest some season-inspired charity from folks around them while they can.
I knew of tent cities in Louisville and Boston [[way west of) where they had a systematic set-up: camouflage, security [[usually old Vets), and they did manage waste so that they were of no polluting burden to their surrounding environment. Many of them were able to sustain themselves for years this way.
There is a church on Morross at I-94 that has a good outreach program for the homeless. I had noticed the white panhandlers at the corner of Morross and I94 service drive beginning earlier this year. There are a few in the downtown area as well as at the foot of I375 Lafayette area. I remember an incident last year where a white woman was sitting on the stoop of the Catholic Church on Washington Blvd downtown. I had noticed her asking a pedestrian a question and the pedestrian shook his head no then walked away. I figured that she needed money so when I walk passed her she had said "sir" and I think had asked for the time or something. I immediately given her the change in my hand and walked away only to feel something hit my back. She had thrown the money at my back as I was walking away. I asked why she had done that and she said that she worked for a living and don't take change. Why she was sitting on the ground is beyond me. I cursed her while picking up my change.
He's probably spending the winter in Florida...:cool:Quote:
Originally Posted by softailrider
One of my personal favorites is the time I was starting to pump gas at the station on the south side of 8 mile at John R -- you know, ChoreBoy baggie place [[and this was the last time I stopped there).
I get out, go over to the pump and a fellow starts walking up to me. After he took two steps in my direction, I said loudly "Sorry, no cash".
He looked at me, shook his head and said "Man, you didn't even let me say anything".
I felt a little bad, and in a moment of weakness, I said "Alright, what's going on?"
He said, "my car just ran out of gas and all I need is some change so I can get to work".
Now pissed, I darted back loudly "Sorry, no cash".
FLMAO.
I'm sure anyone can dig up a disgusting panhandler story.
The "car ran out of gas around the corner, and I got kids in it" has been used for a long time. I've only known of one incident where the person pestered was actually brought around the corner, shown the car with family in it, the gas can, and the empty gas gauge needle. Proof anything is possible in this world no matter what our built-up expectations presume.
Once again, it's at folk's digression on who and how they want to help. giving someone a place to stay is a real risk [[especially if it's not your place or you live with others). I, myself, was offered places to crash many times and glad I turned down as many as I did. I've had five incidents where I actually took people up on the offer and three of them were bad. The ones that were good involved traveling with a fellow Northerner up to Long Island City [[in Astoria), New York [[where I saw the suspicious news helicopter crash on the news that overshadowed the shooting in Brooklyn) to visit his mom, but this was after hanging out with the fellow Catholic for a number of months. The other involved an ex-nun who gave me a place to stay in Adrian for the night and fed me free-range eggs [[which only upset my stomach a little bit). All the bad ones were kooky to go into.
Long ago, living in Detroit caused me to develop rules on how I assist folks.
A lot of it is just common sense.
I will not assist:
Most groups of two or more needy folks. Unless you are with a group of two or more, this is to be avoided. In fact, one has to be careful of a panhandler absorbing all of your attention or acting in a dominating or unpredictable fashion. It's a good way for their confederates to come up behind you and jack you [[almost happened to me by a 12 YO and his two 14 YO buddies under the Liberty pole in Rochester-people warned me about Main St.and the swarm beatings), and that's not to say someone else off to your side will help play distracting interference [[woman suddenly lifting her skirt or something).
I won't help "haunters". They hurt businesses, and they know they can be productive elsewhere instead of perching themselves in front of a store or parking lot. They most likely are professional panhandlers, and they are not making any attempt to seek resources elsewhere. Colbert just did an amazing imitation of a subway panhandler and looked at the crowd like "You've never seen that?". I was yelling at the TV screen "Yes! Yes! on the Redline by croaky-voiced junkies in Boston every week!"
Pop-ups. You park in a parking lot, and right from behind a car with a "who-who-whoop." appears this shadow that reaches out and says "Excuse me. Excuse me." Such shady ambushes are the ultimate in foreboding, and if you can't see them coming, chances are there is very little for them to attempt something worse given the right, isolated circumstances.
"Hey-Mans!". The opposite of above. I mean, really? who actually responds to some shadowy figure in an alley beckoning to you with their snakey finger gesture and going "Psst. Psst."? Anyone calling to you from across the street or from an alley is either a shady pusher or setting you up for an ambush. Just dismiss them with your hand, walk away, and hear them cuss you out.
Liars. Some of them are so far gone that they have lost the practice of telling truth or feel that it is the only way to live. If they are drug-addled enough, they will be so crazy/impaired enough to either believe their own lies [[the Costanza effect) or so messed up that they actually believe that you will believe them [[same can be said for a lot of the PR and spin doctor damage control BS-artists working for corporations and politicians). The more elaborate they spin them, they worse they sound; many times it's just insulting to the intelligence to the listener, yet, you got drunk folks on the town who find it kitsch to bait these guys to keep laying up the whoppers [[chances are they don't mind the mental masturbation it gives them to have someone actually pay attention to them). To you I say-Stop! leave them alone. Don't give them a chance to try out and practice their material. Liars should never be encouraged to think they will get anything for their deceit. It all should also be avoided if they claim they are collecting for some charity or selling chocolate for an academy with no verifiable proof.
Inventing a task. It's as cliche as the homeless window-wiper you see in movies set in NYC. You can't blame someone for trying to be busy and enterprising, and being a street peddler is one thing [[provided none of it was stolen) not to be completely condemned, but someone expecting a dollar because they are selling a free paper [[like Metro Times, as apposed to one of the papers that raise awareness about homeless issues that are provided through advocacy centers) or a miniature flag on a toothpick gets stupid and painful to watch. Once again, they can be doing better else-wise. The worst is when someone claims that they will "watch your car" for you while you are away. There is a subtle hint of coercion there, much like a business-owner having to pay "protection" money to mob enforcers. It's almost as if they are saying they will break into your car if you don't pay-up.
Comedians. Probably the most innocuous. They usually line-up some goofiness to lay on the night crowds. What they do is to disarm folks and make it feel as if you owe them for the yuks they provided. It's much like the invented task above. Once again, your digression. There is no crime in having a sense of humor, but it can be absorbing and a set-up distraction for a jacking.
Lately, I get a little sour when I pan-handlers at functions racially profiling who they hit up and who they don't. It's really a dumb assumption that all white people are well off.
Again, not all homeless panhandle, and there are many pan-handlers who abide by the rules set in some towns where they can't obstruct or accost with their "S'panging?", must keep a distance from businesses, and are regulated to quietly shaking a cup off to the side or flying a sign. You will also notice I didn't mention buskers. I like street musicians, I've been friends with many of them [[Boston and Madison), and I think there should be more of them around the areas.
Yeah, Moross and 94 is jumping with activity. Seeing the area, I'm glad there is some agencies there to attempt to help.
I respect your situation there Stasu, because it illustrates what back-and-forth goes through my head when I see a potential panhandler [["Oh, here we go, I'm not up for this. No I barely got enough for gas and groceries. Have I seen this one before? Ugh. Okay. maybe I don't need Almond Milk this week, so..."). I will say something that may explain that situation better:
There are homeless people who hustle themselves into the ground to re-empower their lives. Once something like it hits, this country has developed things in such a quiet genocide against the poor, so it is almost damned impossible to pull oneself out, and it becomes a very traumatizing and if not, soul-deforming process [[especially if many of the systems demand such a Procrustean hoop-jumping, that one is in dire threat of losing their own identity) if it actually proves successful. Many poor become disgusted with the phony panhandlers who hurt them and cause public opinion to go against aiding social services that would best benefit them; so they don't even want to be identified as being like them. I say this, because I never panhandled and felt that way towards the ones who did.
I've been in towns where the folks were so cold towards anyone slightly dressed down from them [[and I dressed better in Boston as a homeless man than I do as a working Midwesterner just from the folded-up, clean stacks of clothes tossed out in boxes into the giant dorm dumpsters when the spoiled, wasteful Harvard kids leave-I even found a working laptop for my Ugandan girlfriend. Yet, these pompous bearded, bespectacled pea-coat wearing campus hipsters who look so fashionable in cold weather can identify you as poor just from the one notch off you are in fashion there in Massachusetts.), that they will straight-up ignore you when you need directions [[especially as a new-comer) or even need-yes-the time of day.
Even if you are working, you still got to eat, sleep, shower, shave/brush, poop, make appointments, check on storage, check messages, and do all this from a shelter or half-way home [[with all of it's insane hassles-which I won't go into), as you are building up funds and pursuing housing status leads. Job or no job, you still have to survive in the meantime. You get run down quickly, and you've never fully recovered from the harder running down you had to do prior to the few tiers you just achieved so far. Many times, you have to sit down-anywhere dry that doesn't have spikes growing out of it, just to collect yourself mentally and physically.
You may also need a sit-down [[vs. poorly responding by running to the nearby party store to "pick up") if you just hustled hard only to receive a harsh blow of disappointment [[especially with all of the misleading and outdated information out there). St. Aloysius on Washington Blvd used to provide service directly and has been hit hard. Places like that may also be "reference providers'' [[if you need help from a food pantry or to get bus tickets from one place, they may ask that you cut clear across town to get a "referral"-more hustling to make it there in the slim window of hours of operation, filling out forms, hoping you qualify, and more waiting in line.-Kafka never had it so bad!-and come back to access the services provided. This kind of exhaustive hoop-jumping is designed to discourage the lazy, phony exploiters of services, but it is very taxing for those already beset with too many trials.).
More than just food, clothes, staying clean and healthy, and having shelter, there are other very important things robbed from the poor. They become very valued, rare commodities that any human being will try to reasonably hold onto. Things like dignity, credibility, freedom, privacy, and security become paramount essentials. A poor person trying to stay afloat and improve things for themselves will value these things, and they will not like it if society even hints that have lost or will lose them. Dignity is a civil rights issue, and some will feel it is infringed upon when someone condescends [[even if with good intentions) upon them with charity they didn't request [[just why "please"-along with "help", "sorry", "I don't know", "I forgive you" and "thank you" are important phrases that test our ability to remain humble.).
Now you are getting a possible idea why she may've been sitting there, and why she responded to what "seemed like a sick joke life is playing on her." It's a shame life has kicked her so much at that point to where she couldn't have been better in responding without the prickliness that was consuming her. I get that way too.
From personal experience, I had an incidence where I found my way back in Bloomington, IL. Ugh-yeah, "Like a good neighbor", my arse [[well that's not completely true, the grocery stores are cool there, the garage sales were alright, the Catholic presence was wonderful, and every so often, State Farm would cook a pancake breakfast on certain Saturdays at the Salvation Army or some Indian folks would cook up a Vegetarian meal.-still doesn't excuse the clandestine societies operating out of there, the segregation, the lack of a naturally-occurring body of water, the human trafficking, the ugly religious cults, and all of the freakin' morons there!)!
I was walking around a rounded park area drive near Normal, when a black sports car slowed down and stopped well over twenty yards away [[uh-oh-watch it!). I slowed down, and watched as the passenger window rolled down, and I saw two bills of money fall out to the ground and the car roared off. I thought "WTF!" As I strolled by [[and I already determined not to touch whatever they just "threw" out the window), I craned my head to notice two fives on the ground. Yeah, I could've used them, but I had stronger principals, and if this person was too "scared" or pompously aloof to engage me, I wasn't going to touch any of it. I moved on, and caught a Latino family having a picnic and I told them there was some money lying on the ground around the corner. I think they just looked at me with confusion.
I wanted to tell someone of that BS, and I knew if I told any of the sociopathic, deceitful morons in the shelter, I would've gotten the "What!? Are you crazy? I wouldn't taken that ssheet, dawg!." I told one of the younger staff, who right away laughed at the initial way that person "distributed their charity". I explained on, and he was like "I mean, really, Hi! I'm supposed to pick up your ground money, Mr. Scared White Man. I would've been the same way about it."
A month later, I was in LaCrosse [[I believe it was. Yeah. a dumb bluff town-something about the lead content, I guess), when a dirty, rusty, old brown pick-up truck made a wild turn at an intersection as I was crossing with the light, the ginger-haired buzzed-cut chicken-necked yokel kid in the seat throws out a hand full of pennies and dimes onto the road while yelling "Have some change, you homeless piece of s---!." What am I supposed to say?: "Yeah, thanks, Opie." Again, do you really think I was going to pick any of it up, even if I was wearing poor-fitting shoes that were killing my feet?