Fave Has A Bee In Her Bonnet

On my way into the Gas Station Chicken Store on Friday, I saw a dude standing out front collecting money. He had on a vest thingy, so it was legit. It was whatever charity gives out Tootsie Rolls when you give a donation. I don't normally give to people standing around collecting money in plastic jugs that look like hospital bedside urinals. But it's a real charity, and I had the right bills in my shirt pocket. So I handed him one on my way past. He offered me a Tootsie Roll, but I declined.

Saturday, ANOTHER dude was out front. This was an old guy with a scruffy white beard, sitting in a yellow-and-white webbed lawn chair. He started talking to me from the time I rounded the corner.

"Would you like to make a donation?"

"I just gave yesterday. Didn't even take my Tootsie Roll!"

"Thank you for donating! Do you have kids at home?"

"Not at home. My kids are in their twenties."

"Would THEY like a Tootsie Roll?"

"Nah, they're fine without it!"

He kept chatting as I finally reached the door. It wasn't busy that day. I was the lone customer inside. Fave was looking out the front window.

"I wish he'd quit asking people for donations! Most people give him something anyway. He doesn't need to ask. Something about it just bugs me. I guess I'm just bored."

Heh, heh! Fave is usually cheerful to everybody. I guess this guy was wearing on her, having to listen to him through the window. Even though at that time, she'd only been on shift for about four hours.

When I left, Chair Man started talking to me again. I was kind of a captive slow-moving audience.

"It's hard to get old, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I'm still moving. I'm just glad I can get out. A few weeks ago, I hurt my back. Hurt it sitting on the couch! And I could hardly walk. I had to take my cane everywhere. (Too late, I noticed his cane propped against the brick wall.) I was afraid I may never get out again. So I'm doing okay."

"God bless you for your donation. Take care."

I think the old guy was just lonely, and liked to talk. For all he knew, I was lying about donating the previous day. It was a social event for him, having a purpose to be out among strangers and bend their ear for a while. If he had been there the next day, I would have given another donation. 

On Sunday, nobody was collecting. I suppose that was a relief for Fave.