I haven’t been to downtown Cincy in a while, usually when I’m here I’m over the river enjoying a beer or twelve on the Kentucky side. I was in town and got to enjoy the good restaurants, diverse bars and the 72 homeless panhandlers per square mile. Holy shit, Cincy, get it together.
At one point, I went to an ATM, only to see a homeless guy pulling food out of a trash can. We made eye contact, unfortunately, and he set up camp next to the ATM. No cash for me today! I came out of the garage and a man in a shabby suit, stained shirt and wearing brown boots (one pantleg in, one pantleg out) approached me. “Hey man, my mom’s funeral had a fuse blow and we don’t know how many people were coming and I need gas money it’s in Chattanooga my wife and kids are in the car over there can I get a couple bucks for gas it’s my mother’s funeral.” I typed it like that because that’s how he spoke. First, there was no car over there. Second, what does a fuse have to do with gas money? Not sure. Third, I have been cornered three times this morning, no thanks. Good effort on the story, but amazingly, every other person has just run out of gas! What a coincidence.
My time tested excuse is always, “Sorry man, I don’t carry cash.” One guy said, “OK, can you buy me a sandwich, the store is right over there.” Damnit! I found the VP of sales in Homeless, Inc. Good move, sir. I stared at him. “I’ve been getting hit up by everybody, sorry.” I almost felt bad…then I walked 35 feet and a guy said, “Hey man, I just ran out of gas and…” “NO MORE!!!” He backed off instantly. Now I figured it out. Out crazy them!