I'll be there for you...

Yesterday, while I was at a stoplight, I saw a homeless man jaywalking. Hell, everyone jaywalks, but this man HAD A WALKER, and he was doing this across SIX LANES of traffic. I was a little scared for him. I shared this story with my wife. And it led to this story:

Thursday, again at a stoplight, a man in a blue polo approached my car. I pretended not to see him until I looked over to see if he was gone AND HE WAS NOT GONE. Here's (loosely) our exchange:

Me: Hey
Him: Do you have some change you can spare, maybe a dollar?
Me: No.
Him: I'm trying to collect money for this homeless guy...
Me: (searching pockets) No.

I really didn't have any change. I'd just left Old Navy and I only had a $10 bill. I'm not about to give $10 to a strange man in a blue shirt... unless it's Papa Smurf, and we all know he can never go into a place of business. Anyhow, my wife says the solicitor could have been a friend of the homeless guy, and I said (not to be mean):

HOMELESS PEOPLE DON'T HAVE FRIENDS... except other homeless people. And that's like making friends at work or school. It's a necessity, a means of sustenance.

If you had a friend, and knew he didn't have a place to go, would you force him to sleep under the expressway? I know things wouldn't be as magical as You, Me & Dupree, but who's so much of an asshole that he couldn't let a friend sleep on the hideaway?