I saw a presumably homeless man today near the freeway with a cardboard sign. You’ve seen him before, or his relative, or his clone. It breaks your heart. You can’t help but wonder where he sleeps. How he got there. But for the Grace of God, what if that were you? His sign said : “Homeless, please help”. I was eating some food in the passenger seat. My husband was driving. We were stopped in traffic.

The homeless man — he looked at me. Right in the eye. I felt a bit of guilt eating like I was. He then smiled. It was a big sort of lecherous smile, frankly. Not what I expected. And then he looked over at my husband who was on the phone and looking away. And then he flipped open his cardboard sign. The inside said, “You’re a foxy lady. Wish you were mine.” I burst out laughing. I guess he reserved that for a second option to make a “score”. I loved the creativity of the alternative theories (we use that as lawyers all the time…if you don’t believe this theory…convict on this one…blah blah)

He was creative enough to make dual signs. Someone give this guy a job.

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