On my way to school, I take the St. Clair bus (normally a streetcar, but oh well, construction, it happens) to St. Clair West station, where I catch the subway north to law school. It is usually crowded and dense.
Today, outside the station, a black man – say in the range of 25-30 – stood outside, with a stack of pamphlets. I say “pamphlets,” but truly, although descriptively correct, that doesn’t convey the essence of what he held – which were more like photocopied newsletters in appearance if not content. They were labeled “Black History Now!”
And I took one, because I am the sort to read things that are free, even if only for a second or three.
“We prefer a donation.”
I was a bit surprised, but hey, what’s a buck. So I start digging through my pockets.
“It’s just to cover reproduction costs, you understand.”
And my mental bullshit alarm goes off. I can see it’s a photocopied and stapled flyer, basically. Three or four pages. Reproduction costs, maybe sixteen cents total.
“We prefer a donation of four or five dollars.”
And now I know he’s bullshitting me. But he’s doing it with style, and grace, and above all confidence. And I can’t help but admire it, you see, because he’s dressed up in suit with no overcoat, and smiling slightly – but not so greatly as to be overly ingratiating. Even though I know he’s full of crap, I want to give him some money, just for the performance of it.
I can’t help but admire it. “I only got three, is that okay?” Because maybe I admire his panache and sheer balls, but I’m not giving him everything he asks for.
“Three would be fine. How’s your day going?”
“Too damn early.” (It is seven-thirty, which in my estimation is mostly too damn early.)
“Well, you know what they say,” – this, as I hand him the three loonies – “get up early, go to bed early, best way to live.”
“I’m not gonna be going to bed early, though.” This is true – I’ll be reading contract law.
“Well, that’s a shame.” He hands me the pamphlet. “Do keep it in mind if it ever becomes a possibility. I find it makes all the difference. Good day to you, and enjoy.”
He’s a master. I almost want to give him more money. “Thanks, same to you.”
And that is how I came to spend three dollars on five pages, photocopied, of a basic reading list of black history textbooks.
Related Articles
6 users responded in this post
This reminds me of the time I spent about $20 on some cleaning concentrate by this guy who had so much chutzpah, it was beyond belief. It was worth that just for the performance.
I know you’re going to have a lot of fun with this:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071113/ap_on_hi_te/comics_online;_ylt=AkAI5RIN_drD4ojIDaXXcOas0NUE
It turns out these guys “work” almost year-round. There’s a specific pair of them in the downtown area who have been claiming the “Black history Month’ schtick every month of the year where it doesn’t snow.
When I was approached by them, I said that I only had subway fare, and his response was “How much you got? I can make change!”
Aggression + White guilt play = scuzzy.
Salesmanship: it makes all the difference.
My own bullshit alarm might need a tuneup, but this is what went through my head when I read his line about reproduction costs:
“Hold up. He’s saying this is just to cover reproduction, and that’s the only reason he’s asking me for money? I thought that he was trying to raise money for a cause or something. But he’s saying no, instead of using the money donated to him to help his cause, he’s going to just use it to make more flyers to sell to more people at $5 a pop, and then use that money to make more flyers to sell. Bullshit.”
@Rob Brown
Sadly, reading about this guy (guys I guess from The Imps post, although I’ve only ever seen one) does not do their salesmanship justice. I’m a complete hardass when it comes to pan-handling and street sales (although I remain a horrifically easy mark for carnies… go figure) but I too have a copy of “Black History Now” in a drawer somewhere as a reminder that if you let down your guard for one minute…