June 20, 2001
1:41 pm

There is a strange man who wanders around the student center sometimes. He's a very rotund black man who always wears a bandana or skull cap. His beard sprouts in unusual places like bushy tufts of grass. His eyes are droopy and one of them is slightly askew. His thick pink lips are often spread to reveal the big black gap between his two front teeth. He smells faintly of lard and sweat and his unpleasant scent rubs off on you when you shake his clammy hand.

He always has a smile for everyone. He has no qualms about speaking to complete strangers, especially about his church and love of Christ. He's polite and not totally unpleasant to talk to. The only thing that truly offends me about hime is his smell, which I can only guess is the sweat he works up from heaving his heavy body around. It's not a strong smell, but it's enough to make me gag a little.

Yesterday he came up to me while I was sitting by the windows writing. As usual, he offered his sticky hand and I shook it politely. He sat down near me and began talking to me like he normally does. Then he did something he's never done before. He asked me for $5 so he could get something to eat.

Before I could really think about what I was saying, I told him I didn't have any money. It was like some sort of reflex; I don't know where it came from. The truth is, I did have $5, but I didn't know it. I thought I only had $2. However, even if I only had $2, I should have given it to him. I felt pretty bad about what I'd done after he walked away. I felt even worse when I got home, emptied my pockets, and found out I really did have $5.

I asked myself why I was so quick to refuse to give him money. I realized that although I was surprised that he asked me for money, it didn't really upset me that he did. I thought that if I gave him money he would think that I was his best friend or something. That might make him talk to me longer and I'd have to endure that smell longer. Although the smell really does make me gag, I was ashamed of myself. I think that's the first time I ever refused money to a person who has asked for it (when I had the money, that is). I don't know the man's circumstances. He may not have eaten at all that day just because I didn't give him my $5. I still feel a lot of guilt about the whole thing. Although he'll never know I lied to him, I have to find a way to make it up to him the next time I see him.