The complexities of spanging etiquette…
Last night I was walking down Broadway on the way to the Merc (yeah, I am a big gothy cheeseball), eyes on the ground, as always.
Then, whilst passing Dick’s I heard some yelling. Being a nosy kinda gal, I had to listen on in.
The commotion was coming from a small blond crusty chick who was squatting on the sidewalk clutching a wilted cardboard sign which no doubt said something VERY clever. She was directing her wrath at a guy a few feet away who was wearing a yellow tinged wifebeater and a seriously out of it expression.
“You cut me off!” She screamed. “I NEVER do that to you guys, ever! But now whenever I see you, I am gonna go out of my way to!”
The guy sorta grunted and lurched forward. The girl continued her tirade.
Turned out the guy had spare changed someone who she rightfully should have had a crack at. Part of me wanted to walk over, crouch down next to her, put my arm around her shoulder and say “Honey, at any given time of the day there are at least 20 spangers on this stretch. You’re ALL cutting each other off. And, if it makes you feel any better, that guy? Well, he probably wouldn’t have given you any money anyway…”