Thursday, June 17, 2010

Homeless People.

I try to avoid 'The Big Issue' magazines that everyone tries to flog me; they see me a mile away and think that I'll be an easy target.
I mean, I signed up to Greenpeace at one stage, because the Italian guy shouted me down in the main road of Morwell and everybody looked at the "Hey, Pretty lady! Pretty Lady! Yes You!" that he was screaming at (me).

It was a very romantic proposal, and I hope that one day, a real man that knows what a shaver is and does not campaign against Shampoo, will propose to me as romantic and chivalrously as he did.
Hopefully, without asking for my permission to Direct Debit $30.00 every month into the Greenpeace bank account.
Needless to say, the wedding was off when I canceled my monthly payment two weeks later.
I'll save Baby Orangutans on my own, without Alejandro's help.

I like those homeless guys; never homeless women because they're always really obnoxious.
Homeless guys are usually really sweet, and kind of elderly and my natural womanly, nurturing instincts come fighting and I feel really horribly for these guys.

I've met two homeless guys that I really felt sorry for. But the first guy, he really did something to me, that made me think twice about homeless guys.
I met this guy, about a year ago in the City, and he was getting shouted down by some arsehole in a five-hundred-dollar, Italian-imported suit, with a quiff bigger than Amy Winehouse's beehive.
I came up to this ignorant prick, asked him where the fuck had he learned his manners. I gave the homeless guy the ten-dollar note in my wallet and offered him a couple of smokes. Suit-guy looked shocked and walked away with his proverbial fox-tail between his legs and Homeless Guy grinned a big, gummy grin and told me that it wasn't everyday that someone stopped, gave him ten-dollars and talked about the weather with him.
After I left, I realised I'd missed my train, because I'd stopped to help this guy out, have a chat, be a human being for a little while, and had another hour to kill.
So I walked back and went to smile at Homeless guy, when he pulled me up and said:
"After you left, three people stopped and talked to me. You did something!"

People had seen me stop, give a little bit to help out, strike up a conversation from thin air about how Melbourne weather could give you all four-seasons in one day and how uncomfortable the suburban train seats were - and those people followed my lead.

It really, honestly, left me utterly speechless.

Turns out the human race just needs to get real, stop sniffing their arseholes on a regular basis and living life by the title that is given on their degree.

There's hope for us yet.