Almost

The rain had stopped by the time I drove into the parking lot. My parking space was not as close to the video store as I would like it to be, so I had to drag my tropical butt through the cold air for a few extra seconds. A man holding a bottle of glass cleaner walked up to me hastily and said:

“Hi, young man. Don’t be scared of me because I’m a Black man. I just want to get something to eat…”

I do not remember much of the rest. I knew he was trying to get some money in exchange for his windshield cleaning. The fact that he acknowledged being a black man would scare away many people appalled me. Instead of fear, I was thinking that a man with such brutal honesty definitely deserved a dollar. He could not have been more truthful about this wrong world. I told him I was not scared and I gave him a dollar.

“Stay warm,” I said.

Inside the video store, I could not find Syndromes and A Century. And it was why I came here. Then my mind drifted off to the window-cleaning man. I was thinking to myself, “How did a man like him end up cleaning windshields in the streets?” I surely didn’t know anything about him. I saw in front of me a soft-spoken, middle-aged man with a beanie and a windbreaker on. Any given pedestrian may just cross him out as an alcoholic bum, but I could not see any of that from my brief encounter.

Should I offer him a burger at Wendy’s and then asked him about himself? This sounds like an absurd idea but I was very compelled to know about his story. Then again, I am always curious about any person I gave money to. Some people never hand any money to the bums. Some people always tried to help the unfortunate for a bit they can spare. I, for most of the time, hand out a dollar bill occasionally because I am curious. On one hand I want to interact and observe but on another I feel shy and awkward. So before I walked out of the video store, I made up my mind to leave the man alone.

The man walked up to me as soon as I stepped out of the video store.

“Young Man. How’re you? Are you having a good night?” He said it with much hesitant.

I thought to myself, “Did he just forget me or was he trying to ask me something?” I stared at his thin moustache. Perplexed.

“Yeah… I think so. Have a good night.”

I walked to my car and drove away. I almost offer him a burger and get to know about him. Almost.

And almost means it never happened.