Cheers

By the 7-Eleven, there is always someone asking for change. Usually, I am listening to music - or at the very least, have my headphones on - and do not speak to the person. Understand that I do not think giving money to these people is any sort of solution; indeed, without knowing their life story, I see no reason why they can't get a job. I am always skeptical about giving my hard-earned money to support someone's addiction. Usually, I don't give them money, but as I was walking up to the store, I made eye contact with him, sitting by the door on a milk crate, eyes as blue as mine, eyes as empty as mine, and when I found an extra dollar in my pocket, I handed it to him on the way back. And he said, in a way of thanks, "Cheers!"

I did not stop, but I wanted to. I wanted to turn to him and say, angrily, "Cheers? No! Not, cheers! Food, shelter, clothing! Work! But not cheers!"

But I did not stop because there was somewhere I did not want to be.