You have them where you live, too; the ubiquitous street-corner 
panhandler, flying a cardboard flag and dealing for dollars. Seems like 
every corner has one, from early morning's light until late in the 
night. And after long and careful study I find most fit in some definite
 categories. Maybe you've noticed:
The happy guy -  He waves at everybody, change or no. Big smiles 
and eye contact, not a care in the world, he's just out there to make 
his little corner a better place. Very few women in this category (with a
 notable exception discussed later).
The mannequin - Not a twitch. This one stares off into space with
 no interaction at all; depends on peripheral vision to catch proffered 
change. A lot of women use this style. Not to be confused with the next 
type:
The zombie -  You are not sure this one ever moves. At all. I've 
seen one guy hunkered down in front of a guard rail for weeks on end. 
Sometimes you wonder about calling EMS...Wait! Was that a blink?
Crying girl - I thought this was unique to one person, but I have
 now seen others using the technique; tears run down her cheeks, face 
turned away, humiliation almost more than she can bear. Crying on demand
 is a very useful ability for a panhandler, but I wonder if she gets 
dehydrated in this heat?
Life history on the sign -  Vietnam Vet, ex-Marine, Paratrooper, 
Child of God, Peacenik. Needing a bus ticket/cheeseburger/tank of gas 
and 39 cents short. The sign is a work in process; every square inch 
covered with symbols, scriptures and pleas.
The real pros -  Usually a couple, they have worked a particular 
corner for years. They live in the minor-league motel down the street, 
and take vacations.
Hears the voices -  You are never quite sure about these these guys. It's not just a drummer; there's a whole band playing in there. Just for them.
Hears the voices and argues with them - I have been known to run red lights rather than have to stop next to one of these guys.
Bikini Babes - The before-mentioned female counterpart to the 
Happy Guy. They are smokin' hot, happy to see you and you can even get 
your picture taken with them for a donation toward their rent money. 
Sadly, I've encountered only one instance of this type (and they got 
arrested for creating a traffic hazard). Seems hardly fair. I didn't hit
 the guy stopped in front of me that hard!
Windshield washers - What can I say? They work for their money. I
 just wish it wasn't on the car in front of me when the light has long 
since turned green.
The band between gigs - There's 3 or 4 of them and twice that 
many guitars. Loser has to panhandle while the others get to practice 
their art. Walked by a group of these on the Santa Clara boardwalk and 
got a custom four-part harmonized appeal.
The gang -  Similar to the band, above, but with no discernible 
musical talent, these guys have staked out an intersection, or patch of 
concrete next to a panhandle stand and that becomes the boys club. 
Everybody congregates there, passing the paper bag, taking turns holding
 the cardboard.
The squatter -  A plastic crate to sit on - or even a lawn chair -
 appears first. Then there's a few plastic bags of assorted stuff, a 
backpack or two, assorted water bottles and oh yeah, don't forget the 
dog. And the dog dish, and...
The invalids - Pick your affliction. They look up new diseases on
 the Internet at the public library and have half-a-dozen signs to 
choose from. Some use props like crutches - until they have to run for 
their bus. Yes, I did see that. For some, they are not props. We 
regularly see a one-legged woman with a sign that reads "On my last 
leg."
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2 comments:
I may have to read through again, but did you fail to include Bikini Dudes? I know you have several of those there...
Babes, yes. Dudes, no.
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