A funny thing happened on the way to the office

I recently started making lists of random things that happen to me during the day, in order to keep myself entertained in my windowless box of an office. After occupying myself with this nice little distraction, I began to realize that I frequently forget little tidbits of information that are actually quite amusing to me, and would make very good stories to retell at the end of the day. My days have become much more interesting, in retrospect, as a result of this list-making. I will share one of those stories now.

This morning I was leaving Union Station. And I was carrying my computer bag, like I do every morning. Only this morning, there was also a homeless man (or else, if he was not homeless, he certainly did not appear to have bathed within the last week, or to have given much thought to his attire and general appearance) leaving the McDonalds, which is not something that happens every morning. Regardless, I could see the man heading in my direction. And I just had a strange feeling. I had a sense that for some reason I should not have noticed him, but I did. And then I thought to myself how strange it was that he was leaving the McDonalds with a bag of food.

I neared the man. As I passed him, I tried to stay out of his path. But, no such luck. He walked right into my computer bag. I want to make this very clear: this was NOT my fault, as I was attempting to steer clear of the man, and I was perfectly aware of my surroundings. (To analogize the situation to a car accident, it would be as if the man rammed into my driver’s side passenger door.) Despite the man’s responsibility for causing the collision, he responded with a seemingly accusatory (but surprisingly soft) exclamation of “Ouch.” I looked over my shoulder and muttered “sorry,” even though I was not really sorry, because I believed he should have apologized for running into me, but I was not about to begin a fight with a homeless man in Union Station.

However, that was not the end of the interaction. The man continued in a rather amused tone, “You hit my privates.”



WHAT? (I kept walking at this point, refusing to look back.)

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This made me angry for several reasons.

First, I know for a fact that I did not “hit the man’s privates.” I happen to remain aware of my surroundings when navigating through the train station in the morning, and since I happened to particularly notice the man leaving McDonalds with a bag of food, I also happened to notice that he was carrying the bag of food directly in front of him. Furthermore, when he walked into me, I heard the distinct sound of crinkling paper. The man’s bag of food took the brunt of the impact (At the risk of making a terrible joke, it was his French fries, and not his “French fry,” that ran the risk of being squished.).

Second, what grown man actually uses the word “privates” to refer to his private parts?!?!?!?

Third, it is highly inappropriate to refer to one’s “privates” in public. Especially in a crowded train station. While speaking to a woman. That little piece of information could have been omitted. I am no more sorry to have hit the man now that I know where I supposedly hit him than I did before he made me aware of that fact.


I feel validated, however, in that I am not the only person who though that the man was an ill-mannered, lying, crazy person. After the man started complaining, I heard a woman behind me scoff at him. She clearly saw the whole incident and was not buying the man’s story. I was glad.

Sadly, this morning was not the first bad experience that I have had involving homeless people and the McDonald’s at Union Station. The first incident happened over a month ago. Also, it is a two-part story, which I will retell now.

Part one: Sometime in March, I was walking into Union Station after work, and a homeless man outside was wearing a sign around his neck that said that he would like some McDonalds. He was also asking for money to buy some McDonalds very loudly. I felt generous and like to do good deeds, so I decided I would give him some money for dinner. However, I decided I would be smart about it. I walked into the station, went down the escalator, and walked into McDonalds. I asked the man behind the counter if they had “McDonalds bucks.” He said they didn’t, but that they sell gift cards, which are like credit cards that you put money on. So, I asked for a gift card, and instructed the man to put $5 on it, which I thought was enough for a decent dinner value meal. I imagined the smile on the homeless man’s face as I gave him the McDonalds card, telling him he could buy whatever his heart desired at McDonalds (provided, of course, that the meal was under five dollars). After exiting McDonalds, going back up the escalator, and walking outside the station—which could not have taken more than five minutes—I discovered that the homeless man was nowhere in sight! In fact, he was not even in the area! I know this because he was asking for money in quite a loud voice, and I could neither see nor hear any sign of him. I was so disheartened. I really wanted to give the man money for dinner. Sadly, I put the card in my purse and vowed to give it to the next homeless person I saw.

Part Two: For some reason, I did not see very many homeless people after I bought my McDonalds card. Maybe it was because I come home at hours when most business people have already left for the day, and so the train station is not a popular place to loiter at that time. One fateful day, however, as I was exiting a cab in front of the station, a man asked me for money. And—even better—he said he wanted it to buy dinner! My chance to be a Good Samaritan had finally arrived! I said to the man, “Ah! I have something for you!” Then I gave him the card and told him it had $5 on it. The minute I gave it to him, I felt like I had made a mistake. This man did not pull at my heartstrings the same way the first man had. He did not seem genuine somehow. But, I ignored that thought and pretended that he was both very hungry and very nice. He thanked me and walked into the station. I told him he was welcome and walked into the station. He went down the escalator. I went down the escalator. He walked into the McDonalds. I stopped at the TCBY to buy a shiver. Thanks to my craving for a butterfinger and white chocolate mousse shiver, I now know that the man was a liar! While standing in line for my frozen yogurt my back was to the McDonalds, but I kept surreptitiously sneaking peaks behind my shoulder. I could not see into the McDonalds, but I could see people entering and exiting. I kept waiting for the man to leave with his food. Apparently, he did not anticipate that I would make a detour from my route to the platform. Because, after I paid for my shiver and turned around to walk down to the platform, guess who I saw leaving the McDonalds? Empty-handed? THE MAN WHO SAID HE WANTED MONEY FOR DINNER AT MCDONALDS!!! I don’t know what he did with my gift card. He could have saved it. He could have pawned it to someone in line for cash. But, I do know that the man walked into McDonalds, waited for about a minute (so that I would see him go in and assume that he was using the card), and then left to go right back outside, probably to trick more naïve people into handing over their hard earned money in order for him to buy God-knows-what. He certainly was not buying McDonalds with the money.