Here's something you might be interested in.
The other day my girlfriend and I decided to go to Pat & Oscar's. Because hey...that's how we roll. We both hate the lobster bisque at Marine Room, but we love the bread sticks at Pat & Oscar's. What can I say? I have the palate of a 10-year-old. To me, pizza and burgers rule (On a side note: I have yet to have a bad hamburger downtown; Neighborhood has great burgers and amazing fries; Burger Lounge has great burgers and cupcakes; too many to list. And I'm getting hungry now).
One time at Pat & Oscar's in Mission Valley, we saw a homeless guy ask some Dungeons & Dragons players on the patio for their breadsticks. I loved the fact that he asked for food they weren't going to eat, and not money.
We then drove around looking for him, to give him our left-over pasta. We never found him.
Since we had so much left over salad, breadsticks and pasta the other day...we decided to box it up, and find the next homeless person. I told my girlfriend it should be no problem, as we're near the river.
Well, we didn't see any. And she started driving downtown. I asked why and she said "To find a homeless person." I laughed and explained, "Look...I'm all for doing a nice thing for a homeless person. But that means IF we see one. That doesn't mean I want to waste time and gas, going out of our way, to find one."
We ran into our first problem within minutes.
We saw a lot of people that looked like they could've been homeless. But we weren't sure. I'd look at someone and say, "He might just have a long, funky beard. I don't want to offer him the food, only to find out he's a professor at SDSU."
We'd see a few kids in their teens. They are either homeless runaways, or they're trying to be hip with their ripped up jeans and piercings, and hair that hasn't been washed in days.
We saw a woman in her 40s, sitting on a few suitcases and smoking. We pulled up next to her. We couldn't decide...is she someone traveling, or a homeless person with her belongings in two neatly packed suitcases? It wasn't worth the risk in asking.
And as we drove down the next one-way street, we saw five homeless guys. Jackpot!
But my girlfriend drove by. I said, "What are you doing? There's no doubt in my mind they are homeless." She said, "Yeah, but there's so many of them. We can't just give the food to one of them. We need to find one by himself."
We turned down another street, and see one side with tents, shopping carts, and homeless people all over the place. The same problem arose.
But on the other side of the street, there were just a few homeless people. We drove over there.
A tall guy, with a long blonde pony tail and a limp in his walk, was moving slowly. As were we, right next to him in the car. I rolled down the window and offered him the food. He said, "Oh, thank you so much for offering. But I just had a meal recently. There are so many others on this street that could use it a lot more than I."
As I rolled up the window I said, "That is the most polite and well-spoken homeless man ever. If I'm homeless, and I had a meal an hour ago...and someone drove up offering me more food, I'm going to force it down. You might not know where your next meal is coming from."
About 50 feet up the street, we see a black guy sitting down. We pull up to ask him if he wants the food. He's too far for me to roll down the window and yell to him. But, we don't doubt he's homeless, as he has a small grill there and a few other belongings. I ask my girlfriend to go give the food to him. She replied, "You're going to make me approach some homeless guy?" I said, "Look...it's still light outside. I wouldn't make you do this at night. And besides, a tall guy approaching him, might just freak him out. And the dogs on my lap, I..."
Just then, the guy appears at the window. I got startled, and the dog barked a bit.
He had a gold chain dangling down. And my first thought was -- a homeless guy with bling. That's interesting.
I could smell and see his chicken cooking. And we asked if he wanted some breadsticks and salad to go along with it. He thanked us profusely.
As we drove off, we wondered about him. He had three chicken breasts going on that grill. Maybe he was the wrong person to offer the food to.
My girlfriend said, "Maybe he approached the car because he thought we were looking for drugs. It could've been a drug dealer we just gave our food to."
I didn't think drug dealers just cooked up chicken out on the sidewalks. But with as many breadsticks as we hooked him up with...I did picture him going up to some of the other guys on the street, opening up an army jacket to show the various bread sticks and chicken in different pockets and offering to sell them like they were fake Rolex watches.
But at the end of the day, I really didn't care. It was food that was going to be thrown away anyway.
The other day my girlfriend and I decided to go to Pat & Oscar's. Because hey...that's how we roll. We both hate the lobster bisque at Marine Room, but we love the bread sticks at Pat & Oscar's. What can I say? I have the palate of a 10-year-old. To me, pizza and burgers rule (On a side note: I have yet to have a bad hamburger downtown; Neighborhood has great burgers and amazing fries; Burger Lounge has great burgers and cupcakes; too many to list. And I'm getting hungry now).
One time at Pat & Oscar's in Mission Valley, we saw a homeless guy ask some Dungeons & Dragons players on the patio for their breadsticks. I loved the fact that he asked for food they weren't going to eat, and not money.
We then drove around looking for him, to give him our left-over pasta. We never found him.
Since we had so much left over salad, breadsticks and pasta the other day...we decided to box it up, and find the next homeless person. I told my girlfriend it should be no problem, as we're near the river.
Well, we didn't see any. And she started driving downtown. I asked why and she said "To find a homeless person." I laughed and explained, "Look...I'm all for doing a nice thing for a homeless person. But that means IF we see one. That doesn't mean I want to waste time and gas, going out of our way, to find one."
We ran into our first problem within minutes.
We saw a lot of people that looked like they could've been homeless. But we weren't sure. I'd look at someone and say, "He might just have a long, funky beard. I don't want to offer him the food, only to find out he's a professor at SDSU."
We'd see a few kids in their teens. They are either homeless runaways, or they're trying to be hip with their ripped up jeans and piercings, and hair that hasn't been washed in days.
We saw a woman in her 40s, sitting on a few suitcases and smoking. We pulled up next to her. We couldn't decide...is she someone traveling, or a homeless person with her belongings in two neatly packed suitcases? It wasn't worth the risk in asking.
And as we drove down the next one-way street, we saw five homeless guys. Jackpot!
But my girlfriend drove by. I said, "What are you doing? There's no doubt in my mind they are homeless." She said, "Yeah, but there's so many of them. We can't just give the food to one of them. We need to find one by himself."
We turned down another street, and see one side with tents, shopping carts, and homeless people all over the place. The same problem arose.
But on the other side of the street, there were just a few homeless people. We drove over there.
A tall guy, with a long blonde pony tail and a limp in his walk, was moving slowly. As were we, right next to him in the car. I rolled down the window and offered him the food. He said, "Oh, thank you so much for offering. But I just had a meal recently. There are so many others on this street that could use it a lot more than I."
As I rolled up the window I said, "That is the most polite and well-spoken homeless man ever. If I'm homeless, and I had a meal an hour ago...and someone drove up offering me more food, I'm going to force it down. You might not know where your next meal is coming from."
About 50 feet up the street, we see a black guy sitting down. We pull up to ask him if he wants the food. He's too far for me to roll down the window and yell to him. But, we don't doubt he's homeless, as he has a small grill there and a few other belongings. I ask my girlfriend to go give the food to him. She replied, "You're going to make me approach some homeless guy?" I said, "Look...it's still light outside. I wouldn't make you do this at night. And besides, a tall guy approaching him, might just freak him out. And the dogs on my lap, I..."
Just then, the guy appears at the window. I got startled, and the dog barked a bit.
He had a gold chain dangling down. And my first thought was -- a homeless guy with bling. That's interesting.
I could smell and see his chicken cooking. And we asked if he wanted some breadsticks and salad to go along with it. He thanked us profusely.
As we drove off, we wondered about him. He had three chicken breasts going on that grill. Maybe he was the wrong person to offer the food to.
My girlfriend said, "Maybe he approached the car because he thought we were looking for drugs. It could've been a drug dealer we just gave our food to."
I didn't think drug dealers just cooked up chicken out on the sidewalks. But with as many breadsticks as we hooked him up with...I did picture him going up to some of the other guys on the street, opening up an army jacket to show the various bread sticks and chicken in different pockets and offering to sell them like they were fake Rolex watches.
But at the end of the day, I really didn't care. It was food that was going to be thrown away anyway.