This is about the beggar whom I encounter daily on my way to and from school. Five months of more than two passings by a day, in a relatively less frequented part of London, and the chap still does not recognize me. More importantly, he does not recognize my determination not to part with a single penny.
I mean, if you get into the beggary business, you should have some core competencies, right? You should not waste your breath asking for “spaire chainge” off heartless things like me. And come on, how much talent does it take to distinguish between a person who’s looking at you with melting eyes that say “there, but for the grace of God, sit I” and a person whose peepers are scrunched up thinking “if I take up the spot directly opposite him every evening, will I collect enough for dinner every night?”