Monday, August 30, 2004

One Sharp Lookin' Muthafucka

Earlier this morning, whilst standing on the corner suckling at the smokey teat of Our Lorde and Saviour Nicotine, I was approached by a gentleman from the National Coalition for the Homeless who happened to be selling that organization's paper, Street Sense. For those of you in less "urban" climes than your humble narrator, the purveyors of Street Sense are most often homeless people.

He said to me: "Man, I'm gonna tell you this and it ain't no con: you one sharp lookin' muthafucka."

He then asked me for a one dollar donation for a copy his periodical.

Now, one dollar for a paper in the District is pretty frickin' steep. The Washington City Paper is free; the Washington Times is 25 cents (and is, coincidentally, owned lock stock and barrell by the man who crowned himself the Messiah in one of the Senate office buildings); and of course the Washington Post, which is 35 cents.

Despite the excessive cost, I purchased a copy of Street Sense for one dollar. I did this for several reasons. First, it's a worthy cause. Second, the man seemed like a nice enough fellow. Lastly, and most importantly, he appealed to my vanity.

The lesson in this story is that flattering the Imperator can go a long way towards securing Our Imperial Largesse.