PARK AVENUE WEST & BAKER STREET
(OR BE SPECIFIC)

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. It is that we are powerful beyond measure.
~ Marian Wright Edelman

No humbling experience or “a-ha” moment here. It is, what it is, as my little brother, “Big Jerm” loves to say in his serious grown-up tone (you gotta talk like that when you got two older sisters who always boss you). And what it is, is a lack of definition, void determination, and deficiency of clarification, all brought on by overdoses of trepidation.

Tonight I am working a charter in the Centennial Olympic Park area. After I dropping the group off, I head over to Subways. Upon approaching the door, I hear, “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me.” I turn, and standing just outside the door, out of the store clerk’s view is a guy in his mid 50’s. He is neat, but clearly down on his luck. I throw my head back and shrug my shoulders as if to ask, “What?” “I just want something to eat,” he says and I realize he is perhaps slightly mentally challenged. I fish around in my pocket and come up with $.36. I am sorta surprised at my actions, too. Of late, my attitude toward those asking for money has been downright nasty. I usually spit back, “Shit, I’m hurting, too!” I know it’s wrong, but it’s how I been feeling…

Nevertheless, as I fork the change over to him, he turns it down. “No, I want something to eat. I was hoping you could buy me something,” he says, his voice still quiet, yet unwavering. He wanted food—not money. At first, I thought, “The audacity of this mofo.” But then, I took a step back, literally and thought, “Shit, what’s he got to lose?” Either I will say yes or no, and by stating exactly what he wants and being specific, there can be no misunderstanding. Then he adds, “I have not eaten since Friday.” Howsonever, I ain’t impressed. And then the shitty tip week I had comes to mind. Calmly, I advise, “This is all I got,” placing the change in his hand.





As I wait to place my order I am shaking my head (SMH for you twitters, FBer’s, textaholics, etc.). Again, it has not been a good tip week. Executives flying in on private jets, drinking up “complimentary” water that I am required to buy, making racially f’d up statements in front of yours truly (I almost put those bastards out on GA 400—for real, for real…)—yet not leaving a dime! Plus, a couple of my “easy” trips had major hiccups (wrong location, wrong flight information, clients running ridiculously late but still asking me to make stops, etc.). Needless to say, I hate this job and not too crazy about the other two I have.

Then I begin to wonder, what specifically do I do wrong, or not do right, to wind up here? What about the man outside begging? What’s his story? Regardless as to the answers to all these questions, what struck me was that despite whatever his situation is, dude does not feel less than man and he stood up for himself. He knew what he wanted and that’s what he asked for—specifically. No stuttering or hesitation.

Not sure if it’s just the economy or the “way of the world,” but we used to happily ask for stuff and folks would happily give it in return. Remember? “Hold the pickle, hold the lettuce…have it your way!” Nowadays we ask for nothing, keep our heads down and pray for the best. We are all scared individuals afraid to “rock the boat.”

Or we are asking for shit we don’t need—“Can I super-size that?” “We are a family of four, but we have to have 3.5 bathrooms, ‘just because’…” I’m guilty my damn self. One small bag of M & Ms in one week was like, the max when I was a kid. Now that I am “grown,” I inhale two in one day. Furthermore, if I feel up to it, I’ll kill a large bag by myself inside of 3 days and dare someone to ask me for any (I don’t share boyfriends or my M & Ms).

But this guy wasn’t asking for anything he did not need. He said he needed to eat. Nothing more, nothing less.

I buy 2 bags of my favorite chips to go with my 6” ham sandwich. When I get outside, however, the guy is gone. I take a quick stroll through the south end of the park to get some exercise in since the hectic work schedule over the past 2 weeks has left me without time to work-out (really, really SMDH!). As I approach my bus, I look across the street and there he is, this time in a different spot, yet still stating his case to those who will stop and listen when he asks for something to eat. I grab an unopened bottle of water out of my cooler and hustle across the street. I walk up to him just as a guy is turning him down. “Here you go, Bruh,” I say, handing him a bag of chips and the water. “God bless you!” he exclaims “You, too,” I quickly call over my shoulder as I turn to jog back across the street.

Back at the bus, I could see him eating and drinking like it was the Last Supper and he KNEW tomorrow he was going to be crucified. He was hungry. I watch the light change twice as random thoughts play in my head. He finishes, puts his trash in a corner can and walks around the corner, out of sight. Specifically, he knew what he wanted and was not afraid to state his desire. Specifically, he got it—plus $.36!

Axe.