So guys it’s story time… and today’s story is about tramps, but one tramp in particular!
For you guys that don’t know I reside in a little sea-side town called Bournemouth and I mean it’s great but the amount of tramps. You know how people say we should respect tramps. Why? What have they ever done for me? And now because of this one experience I respect them even less… not that I respected them that much to begin with.
Very rarely do I take sympathy on the homeless, not because I’m a heartless person but more to do with I rarely carry money and if I do have money I can’t be asked to stop and retrieve my brick of a wallet that is stuck in my skinny jeans. Nevertheless sometimes I’m in a good mood and will offer my hard earned cash. But oh boy is that going to stop. I swear I was happy on the wrong day.
So there I was, strutting my stuff down the street, quite proud with the shop I had just done at ASDA and I was looking forward to just getting back to my room and seeing bae (Netflix). I’m like 200 metres away and I can practically hear Francis Underwood calling my name. Then I see this rough guy at the corner of my eye. And you know them ones when you just know someones going to approach you so you do everything in your power to avoid that from happening. But me being the idiot I am thought he’d be a hero and carry all 7 bags of shopping on my ones, so it’s safe to say I wasn’t going anywhere fast. This was the ensuing conversation. Well how I remember it anyway I may be paraphrasing…
Tramp: Excuse me boss…
Me: Yes
Tramp: How you doing? I need money for the bus but I’m 80p short could you lend it to me?
Me: Yeah alright.
At this point I was fearing for my wallet because I had a bunch of bags on me, he could have taken it and ducked. So I get out my wallet and look through my change when he proceeds to say. Now I remember this bit clearly.
Tramp: If you’ve got a nugget in there that would be great?
So now I’m thinking, is this guy trying to rob my chicken nuggets aswell. Cos he don’t know that nothing comes between me and some good chicken nuggets. But then I realised “Oh that must be slang for a £1”
So me still fearing for my wallets safety gave him the pound without even thinking… cos I’m a moron basically.
So there he is happy as Larry, so grateful for the whole pound I gave him and you know what I felt quite good inside. Don’t get it twisted I wasn’t going to becomes some modern day Robin Hood but I was starting to think maybe I wasn’t as heartless as I thought.
So he left, probably to get some drugs or some ish and I carry on walking back to my digs and start to realise. “Hold on, he just robbed me”. How is a tramp gonna upsell me? I acted like the guy had a knife to my throat. That pound could have got me one whole item from poundland. THE GUY DIDN’T EVEN ASK FOR A POUND. How’s a tramp going to negotiate his beg money. It’s called “beg” money for a reason. You can;t be making demands who do you think you are. So there’s me contemplating life after just being robbed but kinda still feeling good because the guy was so grateful.
Lets fast forward a few weeks…
So a few weeks have past and I’ve pretty much forgotten about this guy think I was never gonna see him again. In my room getting a bit hungry, Tesco is across the road so I thought let me go and get some munch. So I go out looking homeless myself just about to enter the sanctuary that is Tesco when guess who approaches me. THE SAME TRAMP. This time saying “I’m a Londoner I just need 80p for the train.” When a few things went through my mind.
If you’re a Londoner why are you in Bournemouth?
If you can’t afford to get back how the hell did you get here?
and…
WHY THE HELL DO YOU ALWAYS WANT 80P SPECIFICALLY?
So obviously now I know this guy is just full of gas. So me, knowing I have plenty of money in my pocket say “no, I have no change”. And as polite tramps normally say “Oh okay thanks anyway” or something along those lines… this guy proceeds to argue with me. THIS GUY TRIED TO TELL ME I HAD MONEY. WTF? How can YOU tell me that I have money? Are you okay? If I say I have no money, I have no money. Whether I actually do is besides the point because the results the same. Then he had the audacity to call me a liar… HA! Are you hearing this? A liar aswell. A guy who has apparently been living off 80p rations in Bournemouth for a good couple of months but is from London and needs just 80p to afford a ticket back. I can’t believe I even entertained the guy. Saying that I was paying by card and all sorts… what was I thinking?
If you’re homeless you’re supposed to be humble man, you can’t be interrogating people for money… I only came out for a £3 meal deal.
Moral of the story is, if you live in Bournemouth and someone asks you for 80p keep your money in your pocket and go buy yourself a lollipop.