The guy sitting by the bus stop pushed his detached wooden artificial limb to the middle of the sidewalk. “No leg,” he repeated, as he held a fistful of bills. I guess I was supposed to stick money in the open top of the limb. I declined with a smile. I had just come out of the CVS on Bergenline near Braddock Park, where a different man had asked for help for the homeless before I entered. The second man was the same bearded man who used to hang outside the Fairview A&P on a bench. Then they removed the bench, so he had to stand. Then they closed the store, so he migrated south to this strip mall.
After I completed my shopping, I went to the checkout counter and saw him near an unoccupied register, carefully stacking his coins by denomination. It looked like he had enough for cough drops or candy, but not nearly enough for a pack of cigarettes. In comparison to the one-legged guy, his approach, though direct, lacked imagination. In fact, as I considered the wooden leg strategy, I realized it could be extrapolated to other body parts — a clear container with a glass eye floating in water for those with vision impairment. A larger container for those who’ve had a kidney removed. Various cysts, polyps and small tumors removed, perhaps spread out on a table similar to what jewelry makers use at outdoor festivals. In my case, photos of me as a young man with hair might solicit sympathy.
One scam that nailed me involved a young man inside the Port Authority by the ticket machine, near tears, pleading for a dollar so he could get home. I handed him one, went up the escalator, only to be confronted by a long line of commuters and no bus. I decided to detour outside and catch the jitney, which left every five minutes. I took the stairs and came out by the ticket machine, where the same guy was giving the same sob story to another sucker.
The best performance occurred outside said building when I was in my car, stuck in Lincoln Tunnel traffic. A well-dressed man in his thirties came up to my window, claiming he’d lost his car keys or maybe it was his wallet. He needed bus fare home to a specific Jersey suburb – say, Dumont – and in return he would use his connections to get me Knicks tickets. (This was when the team was worth watching). I gave him a couple of bucks. A half hour later, after I’d circled the block looking for a shorter line, there he was, working a different entrance to the tunnel. He must’ve cleared a few hundred easy.
People who sit against buildings and hold up signs asking for money convey only laziness to me. The guy by the CVS in downtown Hoboken sat in exactly the same spot, sounding like a broken record. I don’t see him anymore. Maybe he auditioned for America’s Got Talent and made it. I make a distinction between homeless people and panhandlers who have a roof over their heads. In either case, I need to see some evidence of constructive activity, like cleaning up the immediate area or holding open a door. At the very least, have a few jokes ready in case someone stops and shows interest. And of course, eye contact is key. Missing limbs can only get you so far. – Joe Del Priore