A few months ago, a, well, a vagrant came into the office looking for a job.
I humored him with an application to avoid falling into the whole discrimination thing.
It’s my first day back and who comes stumbling in, but Homeless Man. (I do not know if he really is homeless or not, but he smells and looks the part).
Homeless Man: You got my application?
me: It’s on file, yes.
HM: I’m really anxious for this job.
me: The owner has your application and I do not know if he’s even hiring.
HM: I need this job… (mumbling) welfare, kids…
me: I am not in charge of hiring but your application is on file.
HM: Well, can I get a cup of coffee then?
me, lying: We don’t have coffee up here[in the office].
HM: Well, how ’bout a cupcake?
me, taken aback: We don’t have cupcakes either.
HM: Change? How about some spare change?
Okay, so, why did I lie about the coffee thing? I had a feeling that if I caved and gave him coffee, he’d be back everyday, stinking up the place, expecting coffee.