IT HAPPENED AGAIN.
Tonight, after I had dinner with friends who are at the tail end of a NYC visit, another of our friends wanted a photo of the group. So we asked a man who was waiting for his SO and lined up. It should be noted that this means there were five of us plus the man, plus his girlfriend who came out, plus other passersby, and that I was standing next to my friends' brother.
The man was about to press the shutter when a homeless woman walked up with a bag open to beg. Before we could even deny or give leftovers, she grabbed my stomach, twisted, and said "goochie."
THERE WERE FIVE OF US AND SHE PICKED ME.
I HAD SAID NOTHING, DONE NOTHING.
I WAS STANDING NEXT TO A GUY WHO WAS AT LEAST 5'10".
SOMEBODY WAS POINTING A GODDAMN CAMERA AT US AT THAT VERY MOMENT. (Alas, no photo was taken.)
It was funny at the time. Over dinner I'd been telling my friends about the various encounters I've had with less stable members of the NYC population, so the first words out of my mouth (after the natural reflex action of bending over and backing away) were, "A-FUCKING-GAIN!"
She kept moving and that was that. I don't think it was meant to be harmful. But
a. it actually hurt
b. I don't like strange people touching me
and
c. I'm tired of this shit.
I really don't know what it would take for me not to be accosted by homeless people at this point. Time of day, safety of locale, presence of other people, degree of bitchface I am wearing . . . none of these seem to have any effect. I have been kicked, hugged, sung to, propositioned, subjected to would-be arson, and now grabbed. (If we count the non-homeless population, I've also been screamed at and made an involuntary confidant of suicidal tendencies.) I can't figure out what the fuck it is about me that makes people--particularly those who are a heady combination of crazy and unclean--feel entitled to touch me, but I want it to stop. This disturbing yet tiresome crap is happening with greater frequency, and I'm beginning to consider it less a possibility than an eventuality that I will meet an insane person with the ability and desire to do me serious harm.
It's time for me to come into a giant pile of cash and become a hermit in Duluth. I will spend winter--otherwise known as nine months of the year--in the warm embrace of a cozy home and cable TV, emerging only to kayak in the summer. If I meet any angry hobos on my way to the lake, I will hit them with the kayak.
Until that heap of money comes in, I'm going to be brainstorming other bum-proofing strategies.
"I can't figure out what the fuck it is about me that makes people--particularly those who are a heady combination of crazy and unclean--feel entitled to touch me, but I want it to stop."
Okay I think I got this figured out...
The reason you're being approached by people in need is, YOU LOOK LIKE A PERSON WHO MIGHT HELP. You seem like a nice person, I mean anybody who likes Freedy Johnston MUST be a nice person right? Everything in the universe is looking for it's compliment. Bees seek flowers, boys seek girls, birds fly south in the winter, everything is seeking that which it thinks will fulfill it's need. In your case, homeless people choose you because you seem like the one person in the crowd who might fulfill thier need. You're personal aura must be one of kindness or caring. People can see that in you, even your friends, but the homeless see it as "fulfillment". So they are naturally attracted to you because you look like the kind of person who might listen or possibly give.
Now, how do we solve this problem? Well it's really not a problem actually, because it's who you are, but if it's causing you grief you may have to resort to adopting a strategy to deal with it. Here's what I suggest...
Try dressing like one of those "Goth" people. You know that really crazy looking "Goth" people? Try dressing like that for a while and see what happens. I gaurantee no homeless people will approach you if you do that. Either that, or try getting a whole bunch of crazy tatoos and buy a really loud Harley Davidson. Absolutely NOBODY will mess with you if you do that. Hell, you could even change the lyrics to one of Freedy's songs to "Everybody thought they were accomplished, till the GIRL on the Harley walked in". Alternatively, you might try wearing a "I Love Karl Rove" t-shirt. Absolutely NOBODY would expect you be give anything to anybody if you wore one of those would they? Heck no...
So I hope I've lit the fire of you imagination with this response Adair. Because while you are a nice person, there's no reason to let the world know it, right? I mean you could be one of those mythical "secret nice people" that we've all heard about but never actually met. Heck, you could be an undercover Mother Theresa and nobody would ever actually know it! The possibilities are endless.
Bill Of Love
(Don't ask me how I come up with this stuff. It's a gift) :)
Posted by: Bill at July 4, 2006 11:36 PMI appreciate your devoting your energies to this thorny problem. My thoughts, in no particular order:
1. In terms of my conduct, I generally aim for "ethical". If I am giving out auras of kindness and whatnot, I am clearly overshooting the mark.
2. Wearing enough make-up to attain Gothness would mean waking up earlier. That is a nonstarter for me.
Clearly a face tattoo is the way to go. Job, schmob!
Posted by: Adair at July 5, 2006 9:49 AMOh, man, I am going to sound like a TOTAL psychopath, but that's just normal operating procedure for me, so here goes. I'm Katie & Susie (and Bobby) Martin's 'little' cousin Annie. I've met you, let's see, three times now, including the day you graduated from high school, and I'm sure that if one thing sticks out about that day in your mind, it's ME. We played badminton! Did that mean nothing to you? I also emailed you once when I was in high school and told you that John Adams was my favorite President. I don't know why, but I think you asked? I stumbled upon your blog tonight while fighting the boredom of a midnight-to-6 a.m. radio (astronomy) observation.
I was going to try to avoid leaving you any creepy comments, but then I saw this entry, knew the girls were in the States around that time and that Bobby's in the NY area, and thought, whatever, this girl knows Martins (this girl knows *Nancy* Martin) so clearly she won't be surprised that one of us would do such a thing. And at least I'm not as strange as the GOOCHIE lady.
Posted by: Annie at August 17, 2006 5:15 AM