Saturday, 1pm, Eaton Centre Food Court (South)
Over Sharkboy’s shoulder I can see him going to various people asking for change but with a twist. He’s asking for something else which makes his targets almost recoil at first and then refuse him after. He’s typically street person unkept, with one pant leg torn away 4 inches above the knee, exposing a yellowy bandage. His eyes are ca-ray-zee!
“Spare any change?” he asks at our table.
“Sorry,” we say.
“You going to eat that?” he asks pointing at the half pack of fries on the tray.
“No. Take them,” Sharkboy says.
He scoops them off the table and wordlessly turns to leave. Sharkboy says to his back, “You’re welcome!”
“What? WHAT? I’ll throw these motherfuckers out, man! I don’t have to say ‘Thank you’. You think I need to say ‘Thank you?’ FUCK you! Yeah fuck you buddy!”
Sharkboy and I are stunned. I make “Oh god don’t say a word” eyes at Sharkboy. With much more abuse hurled at us, he wanders off to another table. We watch him as he goes through his diatribe for the next lunchers. When he doesn’t get anything, he tosses our now-empty bag of fries down on their table.
3 thoughts on “You Gunna Eat Dat?”
Homeless or not, you should have kicked him in the fucking throat.
Sharkboy should read the signs.
“DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS”
Tee-hee
Yeah, that’s right up there with my worst (and that says A LOT) experience ever at the normally only slightly nightmarish Emergency Room at St. Mikes. I was really sick and a friend came down with me. He hadn’t eaten so grabbed a pizza slice before meeting me there. Two other “patients” in the waiting room kept asking him to “save them some” pizza etc. Finially, just when I was about to freak-out some much-more-patient-than-I-am-lady tookm the two guys for a coffee and a donut.