Midwest Education

So...  I just got taken for money again by someone on the streets of Baltimore....  

Its odd how, regardless of the fact that I was immediately suspicious of the woman who stopped me from the very begnning, how I still didn't know what do to do extracate myself from the situation.  I mean, what do you do when a somewhat fraile, reasonably dressed woman flags down your car and asks for a lift to the hospital?  Even if you don't believe them, there is that nagging doubt that they might be telling the truth, is the guilt on your head if they faint dead away in the streets?  You figure, fine, give the woman a ride, its the only humanitarian thing to do, right?

Only thing is, once she is in your car, she doesn't want to go to Union Memorial.  Her hospital is down in the Inner Harbor...  But she feels so weak and thinks she might faint again, her blood pressure has been so high lately...  But she doesn't want to inconvience me, so maybe if I could just take her to her place on St. Paul, which is just a few blocks away.

Fine.  No problem, a minor inconvience and it was raining afterall.

Only, come to think of it, she has this perscription that might make her feel better that she wants to fill at Rite-Aid.  Its just a few blocks further.  Yeah, turn left at the light.  Oh, but she doesn't think she has the money to fill the perscription.  Any chance you can help her?  She'll be so grateful and she knows she doesn't know me from anyone, but she has no one else to rely on right now, everyone else is at work or busy or whatever.  She'll take down my information and be sure to get back with me so that she can get me my money back.  She'll from Brooklyn and "this city is filled with hustlers".  

Oh no, that is okay, don't worry about it.  You don't need my information.

She is just mortified to be bothering me like this, it isn't okay.  She really should take down my number or something.  This city is just filled with people who will use you, she knows how it is.  What was my name again?  She is just so tired right now and feeling dizzy.

No, really.  Don't worry about it.  We're at the Rite Aid, why don't I come in and help you pay for the perscription.

Well, you see, she has a friend of her husband who works in the RIte Aid, and she doesn't want to be seen with another man in the store, cuz you know, being seen with a gay, white male who looks about 1/2 her age might make him jealous.  And he likes to hit her.

Oh, that's just horrible....  .... ...  Well, I've got 5 dollars in my wallet (I have 27), there you go...   Maybe your friend in the Rite Aid can help you out with the remaining 6?

Her friend never has any money and is selfish and hates to help others out.  She muses aloud if there might be some change in the car.

I think I have a little bit, oh look I found a dime.

She points out that she thinks she can see some quarters hidden behind the junk under my cup holder.

Look, I can come in and pay for your perscription with my card if you want.

She thinks that is nice of me, but she just doesn't want to get in trouble with her boyfriend.  He gives her bruises.  She feels so weak right now.   But really, aren't there some quarters down there?

Well.  I've got to be going.

She thinks maybe she'll try asking a lady she knows in the neighborhood if she can borrow some money.  Could I drive her there?

Right or left out of the parking lot?

She thinks its right.  She feels hungry, and maybe some food would help her out.  She wonders if I know where there is a place to ear around here.

No, I don't really come to this neighborhood.  Sorry, don't know any places with food.

She doesn't ever come to this neighborhood either.

...

Could I drop her off just one block away by her friend's house?

....

She's very grateful.  Thanks me for dropping her off at the house.  She wonders if I could give her the quarters too, because, you know, every little bit helps.

I give her the 3 quarters, which have suddenly and miraculously become visible to me.

She wants a hug, she thinks I'm so nice.  She will be sure to call me and try to pay me back if I give her a number.  It just might take her a while because she doesn't have a phone.

That's fine, don't worry.  Just feel better okay?

As I pull away, I realize that I can't turn left at the light to go back to my place, and instead will have to make 3 rights and double back to the block to go the right direction.  I do so, stopping at the red light on the block where I dropped her off.  As I wait, I see her.  Her face is still covered with a weary sort of expression and as she crosses the street, she does look sick.  Almost as if she weren't faking it all along.  As the light turns green, she staggers up a small set of stairs, and, looking winded, enters the liqour store on the corner.



What is a Midwestern boy, raised on corn and stoic politeness to do in this sort of situation?  This isn't my first run-in with people who blatantly lie to my face here, indeed, she was much less convincing than many people who I have seen.  Only thing is, even though I know they are lying, once they get their hooks in, how do you really shake them?  My Michigan training in courtesy has rendered my completely incapable of telling somone who I just met to go fuck themselves.  I just don't have it in me.  

So instead, we sit in my car.  I know she is lying, and she knows that I know.  But we both play our parts.  Me, a young man who is mildly concerned about her medical problems that have already caused her so much pain.  A young man who genuinely cares, just not enough to actually do anything that might inconvience me.  Her, a tragic figure of life, down on her luck and with fate conspiring against her, in need of help from anyone.

The irony?  Maybe we're not actually acting out our roles at all.  She does indeed match the profile of a tragic character.  Reduced to lying, begging and/or stealing to cope with her situation.  Telling a flimsy story to someone she can tell isn't buying it, but sticking to that story to get her fix.  Me?  A lucky white boy, who doesn't really know how bad it can be.  Underneath the annoyance of being repeatedly lied to, I do indeed feel bad for her, to be in a situation where she feels she needs to act like this.  

...but just not bad enough to actually do much of anything...