20.07.2014 - 20.07.2014
Picked up that bloody bicycle. Covered in rust. Don't ask how much. The man that sold it to me was a definite prototype for a character that has appeared in numerous sitcoms. He dropped it off at Canterbury West station for a fee of seven pounds. Asked me for positive feedback. In his description of the bicycle he neglected to mention the rust but he did say it was great for going the last mile to work. In my feedback I put very friendly guy, went the extra mile.
Whilst I was waiting for him I popped to Sainsbury's Local to grab a sandwich and on the way was approached but a tatty looking fellow who appeared to be an alcoholic or drug addict with neurosis.
“Excuse me sir, please forgive me...” he said in local-working-class-aggressive tone.
I feel bad about this but after a micro pause I just walked straight past. I didn't feel like giving him five quid for a bus fare or whatever the story was. I had to go see a man about a bicycle.
“Every one!” I heard him shout after me, aggressively. Meaning, I suppose, that everybody he approached ignored him.
Here is my problem. My instant impression of him was someone that wanted money for something but would tell me a lie about what for. A person who hated people like me but asked them for money. A person who probably wouldn't give money to strangers in need himself. What is the solution? Perhaps charity should not come with all sorts of uncharitable preconditions. Just hand him a couple of quid and off you go? You do your good bit, his lookout if he doesn't do his. Yep, not rocket science, James. Mm! I go round and round in circles on this one but maybe I'm approaching an answer. Anyways, I know I probably didn't handle it right by just walking past him. (I was asked for sixty pence for a phone call the other day in Margate, but that's another story).
I went back to the train station to wait nearly an hour for the train back. There were loads of Italians and other continentals and a few Chinese as well. A gorgeous fat one got off a train that terminates and trundled off somewhere with a slimmer friend, unaware that we were made for each other.