Calling all bums

The truck is fixed at last. Hurrah! We’ll be heading out today. Won’t be sad to leave, as former posts attest.

There’s a big parking lot here for the many drivers of big trucks who stay at this motel. Seems like whenever there’s a large gathering of trucks, the panhandlers discover us, like they have some kind of Panhandler Central Bureau that sends text alerts to their blackberries, “Attn beggars, easy marks arriving en masse at Fleabag Motel on I-10. Proceeds are first come, first served.” Well, they got the message for this place. We were hit up twice today in the parking lot.

I wish panhandlers had easy access to the internet, because if they did, I would put up fliers all over the country telling them to come read this blog. I have some good advice for them.

We are heading into fall now, and winter will be here before we know it. With the coming of winter, panhandlers in the colder parts of the country will go into hibernation, or migrate, or get a job, or whatever it is that panhandlers do to stay afloat during the cold months. I suggest that they spend their off time thinking up some new stories, because I’m sick to death of the old ones.

If you’re a trucker, you are constantly barraged by truck stop panhandlers. Some of these people are actually needy people, and I’m always happy to help them out. The vast majority of them, however, are professional beggars, and I’ve pretty much lost my patience with them.

When I first started driving, I found the pro to be fairly amusing, and would usually fork over a few bucks. Over the years, though, I’ve gotten tired of the same old song and dance. Usually they want some change so they can supposedly buy food. Or the bum approaches me and asks if I can help out him/her. He/she just needs some money for gas because:

• A. There’s a job waiting for him/her just 50 miles down the road if he/she can get there in time.
• B. He/she had to buy a new tire and so are short of the money he/she needs to get to the new job waiting 50 miles down the road.
• C. A relative is sick just 50 miles down the road and may die if he/she doesn’t get there in time.
• D. He/she had to buy a new tire and so are short of the money he/she needs to get to the relative expiring in the hospital just 50 miles down the road.
• E. A corrupt mechanic sold him/her a bad tire, so now he/she has to buy another new tire to …. you’re getting the picture.

It’s just the same old story over and over. Is it asking too much that these people expend at least a little effort at their chosen professions and come up with something new and interesting? I’m so bored with them, I’ve taken to just waving them off the second they start the gas story. I’m of the opinion that I should get a bit of entertainment value for my handout. These bums need to start ponying up.

I long for the fellow who came up with the story he told me about how he was “accidentally” AWOL from the Army because he had gone on leave, fallen in with some “bad women” who had taken all his money, and was now stranded without a way to pay his bus fare back to base. He was even prepared to part with some lovely gold chains if I would just give him some money. I enjoyed the “bad women” part (or “bad wimins” as he called them). This fellow got $10 from me just by virtue of coming up with a good cover story for hawking his wares (which I declined as reimbursement, so he wasn’t even out a necklace).

This type of fellow is, sadly, a rarity. Last week we were approached by a guy who told us he needed gas money because he didn’t want to run out of gas with his kids in the car. We were like, dude, we saw you get out of your car, we can see into the car from here, and there’s no kids in there! This happened immediately after the truck stop altercation, so he probably wouldn’t have gotten any money anyway. But still, a better story might have gotten him the loose change in Hedon’s pocket.

I’m in such disgust over the state of today’s bums that I didn’t even mind when a scammer took Hedon and I for $30 last year. We were sitting in a dock waiting to be loaded. It was lunch time, and we had been stuck there all morning with no food. This fellow drove up in a pickup and told us that his church was holding a benefit lunch at the warehouse next door for a family who had lost everything in a fire. They were having BBQ, and he’d go get us what we wanted and bring it back to us in exchange for whatever we wanted to donate to the cause. He even asked us if we wanted corn bread or rolls, ribs or chicken, sweet tea or regular, pie or cake for dessert.

Hedon gave him our orders, and $30. The second he drove away, we both said, “Maybe we should have waited until he brought the food back to give him the money.” Oops. Figured that one out too late. Of course we never saw the fellow again.

I can’t be bitter. I think it’s funny. I mean, I consider myself pretty scam-proof these days. But this fellow had a good story, he had finely honed his craft, and he knew our Achilles heel: food. He did a good job. And I was entertained.

Here’s another thing these beggars are getting wrong. When they hit us up for money, they should at least wait until we’re gone before they run into the truck stop and spend the money we just gave them on a video game. I’m sensing a lack of respect in the panhandler/sucker relationship here.

I’ve decided that in the future I’m not handing over another penny unless I get some kind of creative return on the panhandler’s part. Next time I get the “gas money” story, I think I’ll just say, “Listen, buddy, I’m tired of the gas story. Go over there and stop and think for a moment about what kind of story might actually entertain me. When you’ve got a good one, come back. And if it’s too much trouble, then piss off.”

Yeah, I might just do that.