OK. I was walking down the street earlier today, enjoying a cruller and minding my own business when this dirty, smelly bum cut in front of me.
“Hey buddy,” he said. “Y’got anah spare change?”
“Hell no,” I said. Which was a lie; I had loads in my right front pocket and jingled it loudly as we talked. “What do I look like, UNICEF?”
“No,” he admitted.
“Damn straight. You want some cheese from me, you gotta work for it. You got any skills?”
“Uh,” he said, scratching his head. Then the ol’ light bulb flicked on. “Wait, I know! Big Steve down at the shelter says I’m real good at sucking cock. Whaddya say?”
I gasped in disgust. “I say get out of my sight, you worthless piece of shit!”
I gave him a solid kick in the ass for emphasis, and the crusty old bastard stumbled off to whatever oblivion awaits him. Then I felt bad, so I picked up a low-rent street walker and paid her with the change the bum had wanted. Why? Because I’m all about watching after my karma, baby.