Sometimes things in life suprise you when you least expect it.  I suppose that’s why it’s called a surprise.  A few days ago, around 11:15 PM I was leaving work.  My friend and coworker John was walking out the door with me.  He lives about 12 blocks away and usually walks to and from work, except on cold or rainy days.  This night was a cold one.  Of course, compared to the Upstate New York winters I was brought up in, it is mild.  I guess my blood is thinning in this Californian weather.

The printing shop where I work sits on a corner of a major road in Sacramento, a few blocks away from the State Capitol building.  We crossed the street, me to my parking garage, John to the lightrail his station.

I don’t remember the exact conversation, but it had something to do with company politics and then ran into national politics.  John is something of a nouveau hippy.  Not exactly the type that you’ll see wearing tiedyed t-shirts and Lennon-style glasses, but more in that he doesn’t worry himself as much about selfstylings like Nike logo’s blazing across his chest.  He’s a good guy who fashions himself a little bit after The Dude, but not too seriously.

As we were talking, I noticed a guy coming up behind him, approaching us.  Now there is something you have to understand about Sacramento.  It is about the biggest thing around the area I live in, and surrounded by lots and lots of farmland.  You can go 20 minutes in any direction and be surrounded by country bumpkins and think you were in the middle of some town in Upstate New York.  After starting work in Sacramento, I immediately noticed something I haven’t seen in a long time.  Bums and homeless folks.  Lots and lots of them.  Think early 1980’s Times Square and you’ve got it.  Why are there so many bums?  I don’t really know. 

I was told by someone at work that knows a cop who told her that it is because they feed them and have lots of shelters around the area where I work, so they all congregate there.  I don’t know if I buy that, but it surprised the hell out of me anyway.

So I was immediately starting to put up my guards when I saw him coming.  He was a black man about 35, cold looking in his shabby clothing.  It is hard to tell when you are trying to ignore someone.  At the same time I’m ignoring him though, there is a part of me that wants to help. 

However, I get hit up for change or cigarettes (I don’t even smoke) fairly frequently.  After a while it grates on you and you don’t want to be bothered.  It isn’t fair or nice I guess.  It is what it is.

Here he comes.  Then, all of a sudden a small SUV pulls up.  What the hell?  This is quickly becoming uncomfortable.  John and I pretend to continue our conversation.  At least I do anyway, since I was the one talking.

“Hey, you guys know where any liquor stores that are open around here?”  The guy on the passenger side says.

The bum has, by this point, walked over to us but gets between the car and John and I.  When the guy asks the question, the bum turns and looks at us.

“Huuuhh…  Yeeah, that’s tough man.  Umm, I think the only place around this time of night is Albertsons” John says.  The bum turns to the guys in the car and nods in agreement then approaches the car.

The bum starts talking to the guys in the car.  I imagine that he was probably hitting them up for change as I assumed he was about to do with us.  John and I continue our conversation, in a disconnected manner.

A few minutes pass, my worries are still at what Tom Ridge would label as Orange.  Then the car pulls away and the bum turns around.  Shit, he’s coming over to us.  Hopefully he’ll take no as being final and won’t follow us.

“Hey you guys, I haven’t eaten in days and I was wondering if you happen to have some change you can spare?”

I shake my head and look away.  I’ve heard better stories.  “No man, not these days,” John says.

The bum says thank you and that he’s sorry for disturbing us.  Then he walks away, down the street.

I try stirring up the conversation again.  John is still watching the bum walk away and cuts me off.

“Hey man!  You hungry?  How about some fruit?” John yells at the bum walking away from us, now about 40 feet away.

“Yeah!  That’d be great!”

Huh!?  I’m startled by John’s generosity.

The bum walks over to us again.  John starts rustling through his backpack and reveals a brown sack with Albertsons written on it.

“It’s the rest of my lunch, but I’ve got a full orange and some other fruit in there too” John says.

“Alright!  Thanks man!” The bum says, with bright eyes.  He turns and walks away; John still watching him.

“Wooohooo!  Grapes!  I got grapes!”  He says walking downt he street.

I look at John and smile.  Then laugh.  We start talking about politics again.  Something about the shitty healthcare system in this country.

John then notices the lightrail train is coming down the street behind me.  We said our goodnights as he ran down the street trying to beat the train to the station.  I walked to my car and drove home.

I guess why I wrote this is that John’s offering to an anonymous homeless guy really impressed me.  I probably wouldn’t have done that if I were in the same situation 100 times in a row.  I think that bothered me.  Is that selfish?  I don’t know.  But it did make me think.  I guess I was humbled that day and I suppose I appreciate the experience.

The Dude abides. I don’t know about you but I take comfort in that. It’s good knowin’ he’s out there. The Dude. Takin’ ‘er easy for all us sinners. Shoosh. I sure hope he makes the finals.

-Hollywood