Kyle Woodruff's Blog: TheDevoutHumorist - Posts Tagged "sikhism"
TDH #31
By thinking, He cannot be reduced to thought,
even by thinking hundreds of thousands of times.
By remaining silent, inner silence is not obtained,
even by remaining lovingly absorbed deep within.
The hunger of the hungry is not appeased,
even by piling up loads of worldly goods.
Hundreds of thousands of clever tricks,
but not even one of them will go along with you in the end.
So how can you become truthful?
And how can the veil of illusion be torn away?
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 1
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I originally chose seven religions because there are seven days in a week, so my goal of posting daily seemed to align nicely. But then two different people slid into my DM’s in a 24-hour period inquiring about Sikhism. We’ll either have to add an eighth day of the week or I’ll have to accept breaking out of my convenient mold because at a glance I like what Sikhism has to offer.
(If we add an eighth day of the week, though, I vote it falls between Saturday and Sunday to extend the weekend. Open to name suggestions in the comment section and I’ll run them up the chain 😉)
In the opening lines of the Sikh text, the Siri Guru Granth certainly get the wheels turning. It mentions God, meditation, desire, materialism, and ask some pretty big questions about truth and illusion. Needless to say, I was intrigued.
Apparently it’s the fifth largest religion worldwide, which I didn’t even realize, and also the most recent to come around. Around 1500CE, as tensions rose between Hinduism and Islam, a man named Nanak approached a local stream to perform a ritual bathing and had a vision from God. Then he disappeared for three days, leaving his clothes by the shore so his family and friends thought he’d drowned. He returned to announce that he’d been taken into God’s presence and told them, “There is neither Hindu nor Muslim, but only man. So whose path shall I follow? I shall follow God’s path.”
I liked the sound of that. Here are a few things I also liked when reading some general info about Sikhism:
- Sikhism rejects the claim that any particular religious tradition has a monopoly on “Absolute Truth.”
- There is one, omnipresent and transcendent God, but the doctrines of karma and rebirth are retained.
- Democracy, equality, hospitality, and religious inclusiveness are all tenants of the religion.
- Sikhism encourages a balanced life of inner spirituality and outward service toward fellow man.
I’ll report back on the accuracy of those statements as I work through the text ;)
But in the meantime:
#Sikhism, welcome to the party.
even by thinking hundreds of thousands of times.
By remaining silent, inner silence is not obtained,
even by remaining lovingly absorbed deep within.
The hunger of the hungry is not appeased,
even by piling up loads of worldly goods.
Hundreds of thousands of clever tricks,
but not even one of them will go along with you in the end.
So how can you become truthful?
And how can the veil of illusion be torn away?
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 1
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I originally chose seven religions because there are seven days in a week, so my goal of posting daily seemed to align nicely. But then two different people slid into my DM’s in a 24-hour period inquiring about Sikhism. We’ll either have to add an eighth day of the week or I’ll have to accept breaking out of my convenient mold because at a glance I like what Sikhism has to offer.
(If we add an eighth day of the week, though, I vote it falls between Saturday and Sunday to extend the weekend. Open to name suggestions in the comment section and I’ll run them up the chain 😉)
In the opening lines of the Sikh text, the Siri Guru Granth certainly get the wheels turning. It mentions God, meditation, desire, materialism, and ask some pretty big questions about truth and illusion. Needless to say, I was intrigued.
Apparently it’s the fifth largest religion worldwide, which I didn’t even realize, and also the most recent to come around. Around 1500CE, as tensions rose between Hinduism and Islam, a man named Nanak approached a local stream to perform a ritual bathing and had a vision from God. Then he disappeared for three days, leaving his clothes by the shore so his family and friends thought he’d drowned. He returned to announce that he’d been taken into God’s presence and told them, “There is neither Hindu nor Muslim, but only man. So whose path shall I follow? I shall follow God’s path.”
I liked the sound of that. Here are a few things I also liked when reading some general info about Sikhism:
- Sikhism rejects the claim that any particular religious tradition has a monopoly on “Absolute Truth.”
- There is one, omnipresent and transcendent God, but the doctrines of karma and rebirth are retained.
- Democracy, equality, hospitality, and religious inclusiveness are all tenants of the religion.
- Sikhism encourages a balanced life of inner spirituality and outward service toward fellow man.
I’ll report back on the accuracy of those statements as I work through the text ;)
But in the meantime:
#Sikhism, welcome to the party.
TDH #39
When the hands and the feet and the body are dirty,
water can wash away the dirt.
When the clothes are soiled and stained by urine,
soap can wash them clean.
But when the intellect is stained and polluted by sin,
it can only be cleansed by the Love of the Name.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 4, Stanza 20
(translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsav)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In reference to this last line, I found a commentary that points to the Sikh principle of meditating on God’s “Naam.” Upon further research I found “Naam” described as the great controlling force of God. Apparently it has no beginning and no end; it is unchanging, ancient, and eternal; and it is the life current that pervades all of creation.
(Sounds a lot like the description of Tao in Chinese culture.)
Our mind is in a constant state of motion, mostly flowing outward into the world. By turning our attention inward we can allow the mind to still and reach a place of rest. The message of this stanza is that if we hope to wash off the sins of our lives (or previous lives, as Sikhism believes in reincarnation), meditating on this “Naam” is the path to doing so.
(Sounds a lot like the goal of meditation in Buddhism.)
This concept inevitably brings me to the float tank, where I’ve been doing my best meditation lately. I don’t know about past lives (though I don’t disbelieve in reincarnation either), but I do know that meditating on any behaviors in my own life that felt immoral, unethical, or just plain bad, helped me shed the guilt around them by asking for forgiveness.
I often feel cleansed after emerging from the waters of the tank (like a baptism of sorts, I suppose you could say). And here it seems like what I’ve been doing is tuning into the Love of God described above, clearing a conscience polluted by intellectual stains.
If nothing else, putting aside some aim for Nirvana or Heaven or a better reincarnation, accepting what I’ve done and letting go of remorse makes me feel better in the here and now. From there all we can do is aim to live a more virtuous life moving forth. Just remember to use soap when your clothes are stained by urine.
water can wash away the dirt.
When the clothes are soiled and stained by urine,
soap can wash them clean.
But when the intellect is stained and polluted by sin,
it can only be cleansed by the Love of the Name.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 4, Stanza 20
(translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsav)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In reference to this last line, I found a commentary that points to the Sikh principle of meditating on God’s “Naam.” Upon further research I found “Naam” described as the great controlling force of God. Apparently it has no beginning and no end; it is unchanging, ancient, and eternal; and it is the life current that pervades all of creation.
(Sounds a lot like the description of Tao in Chinese culture.)
Our mind is in a constant state of motion, mostly flowing outward into the world. By turning our attention inward we can allow the mind to still and reach a place of rest. The message of this stanza is that if we hope to wash off the sins of our lives (or previous lives, as Sikhism believes in reincarnation), meditating on this “Naam” is the path to doing so.
(Sounds a lot like the goal of meditation in Buddhism.)
This concept inevitably brings me to the float tank, where I’ve been doing my best meditation lately. I don’t know about past lives (though I don’t disbelieve in reincarnation either), but I do know that meditating on any behaviors in my own life that felt immoral, unethical, or just plain bad, helped me shed the guilt around them by asking for forgiveness.
I often feel cleansed after emerging from the waters of the tank (like a baptism of sorts, I suppose you could say). And here it seems like what I’ve been doing is tuning into the Love of God described above, clearing a conscience polluted by intellectual stains.
If nothing else, putting aside some aim for Nirvana or Heaven or a better reincarnation, accepting what I’ve done and letting go of remorse makes me feel better in the here and now. From there all we can do is aim to live a more virtuous life moving forth. Just remember to use soap when your clothes are stained by urine.
TDH #47
Burn emotional attachment, and grind it into ink.
Transform your intelligence into the purest of paper.
Make the love of the Lord your pen,
and let your consciousness be the scribe.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 16
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know what this means exactly, but it sure sounds good, doesn’t it?
That first line stuck out to me because that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do as of late.
Prime example: Yesterday I came down with some kind of flu that really knocked me on my ass. I mean debilitating migraines and hot-cold, hot-cold, hot-cold flashes all through the night.
I could have gotten all woe-is-me, someone-bring-me-chicken-noodle-soup, but instead I embraced the reminder of vulnerability and tried to smile in the face of shittiness.
That’s what I’ve really been trying to do lately: Smile in the face of _______.
[Anger, frustration, sadness, or illness, in this case]
To become the master of my emotions.
To be a third party observer as initial reactions fly by.
To remain on the pursuit of stoicism, through sickness and health.
Now really, though. Could someone bring me some chicken noodle soup?
Transform your intelligence into the purest of paper.
Make the love of the Lord your pen,
and let your consciousness be the scribe.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 16
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know what this means exactly, but it sure sounds good, doesn’t it?
That first line stuck out to me because that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do as of late.
Prime example: Yesterday I came down with some kind of flu that really knocked me on my ass. I mean debilitating migraines and hot-cold, hot-cold, hot-cold flashes all through the night.
I could have gotten all woe-is-me, someone-bring-me-chicken-noodle-soup, but instead I embraced the reminder of vulnerability and tried to smile in the face of shittiness.
That’s what I’ve really been trying to do lately: Smile in the face of _______.
[Anger, frustration, sadness, or illness, in this case]
To become the master of my emotions.
To be a third party observer as initial reactions fly by.
To remain on the pursuit of stoicism, through sickness and health.
Now really, though. Could someone bring me some chicken noodle soup?
TDH #55
With my own eyes,
I have seen those known as kings and lords reduced to dust.
O’ Nanak, when one departs from the world,
all one’s false attachments are broken.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 16
(Translated by Daljit Singh Jawa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’ve been going back and forth with someone on the “I am not the body” philosophy, popular in yogic practices and (I believe) traced back to the Bhagavad Gita.
The belief is that “you” are eternal, and therefore not attached to this material form. Of course, this requires a belief in the immortal soul, but I like to keep a grip on the fact that our life here and now is all we know for sure.
Maybe this is just a temporary meat vehicle, but I’ll never truly be able accept we are not the body because we are so inevitably tied to the body. We are an accumulation of all the physical and psychological stimuli that have happened to us since birth.
If a baby is mistreated in infancy, the body remembers what the conscious mind won’t, and so your being becomes a sum of the subconscious reactions and stories shaped by traumas and experiences, even the ones before you remember. These can remain stored in the body as physical tensions, chronic pains, and poor postures that influence who we are. All of these shape the personality that is “you.”
There are various means to heal these things (like meditation, acupuncture, therapy, psychedelics) or make them worse (with drugs, alcohol, self-inflicted wounds), but they are both means of influencing or manipulating the body itself.
In the end, what is “you” if not the personality created by every experience you’ve ever had? Some cookie cutter “soul” that comes from a spiritual dough to which it returns after death? I suppose that plays into the “all are one” and “from the source” ideas, but that view detracts from any purpose in the individual experience now.
I think my view boils down to not knowing what (if anything) comes after this life, and so I’m more concerned with making the here and now fulfilling. That starts with keeping the body as healthy as possible, because it’s directly tied to the mind, and therefore (if such a thing exists) the soul.
Any kind of healing we can perform during the “you” experience now can only carry over to a spiritual or karmic afterlife, if anything like that exists.
I have seen those known as kings and lords reduced to dust.
O’ Nanak, when one departs from the world,
all one’s false attachments are broken.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 16
(Translated by Daljit Singh Jawa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’ve been going back and forth with someone on the “I am not the body” philosophy, popular in yogic practices and (I believe) traced back to the Bhagavad Gita.
The belief is that “you” are eternal, and therefore not attached to this material form. Of course, this requires a belief in the immortal soul, but I like to keep a grip on the fact that our life here and now is all we know for sure.
Maybe this is just a temporary meat vehicle, but I’ll never truly be able accept we are not the body because we are so inevitably tied to the body. We are an accumulation of all the physical and psychological stimuli that have happened to us since birth.
If a baby is mistreated in infancy, the body remembers what the conscious mind won’t, and so your being becomes a sum of the subconscious reactions and stories shaped by traumas and experiences, even the ones before you remember. These can remain stored in the body as physical tensions, chronic pains, and poor postures that influence who we are. All of these shape the personality that is “you.”
There are various means to heal these things (like meditation, acupuncture, therapy, psychedelics) or make them worse (with drugs, alcohol, self-inflicted wounds), but they are both means of influencing or manipulating the body itself.
In the end, what is “you” if not the personality created by every experience you’ve ever had? Some cookie cutter “soul” that comes from a spiritual dough to which it returns after death? I suppose that plays into the “all are one” and “from the source” ideas, but that view detracts from any purpose in the individual experience now.
I think my view boils down to not knowing what (if anything) comes after this life, and so I’m more concerned with making the here and now fulfilling. That starts with keeping the body as healthy as possible, because it’s directly tied to the mind, and therefore (if such a thing exists) the soul.
Any kind of healing we can perform during the “you” experience now can only carry over to a spiritual or karmic afterlife, if anything like that exists.
TDH #63
Those humble beings who are filled
with keen understanding and meditative contemplation,
even though they intermingle with others,
they remain distinct.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 23
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll spare you the details of how this situation arose, but a friend of mine found himself in the middle of nowhere North Carolina, drinking a room-temperature Budweiser in a dingy, cat-piss apartment with no cat. Across from him on the couch was what he described as a lonely, angry, white guy in his mid-twenties. The context of this meeting (that eerily resembles a scene from the Jeffrey Dahmer docuseries I watched recently) is irrelevant to what I plan to focus on here: his backstory.
Guy was born in Russia, where his biological parents gave him up to an orphanage, where he was adopted by an American couple and brought him over to the States, where his adoptive father cheated on his adoptive mother and then got into a car accident that killed his mistress so he killed himself, inspiring his wife to spiral down a rabbit hole of crack and eventually OD. Oh, and somewhere in the midst of all this happening this fella was molested by his adoptive sister.
Isn’t that just a happy little way to start off life, where now you’re left to work a minimum wage job with no friends and hate everything?
No one wants to hear a no happy ending, dead end story, but they sure do put most of ours into perspective, don’t they? That’s the sole reason in which I share this with you, because if you’re feeling even the slightest bit of “woe is me” as you read this like I was, watch it evaporate into thin air. Be filled with keen understanding and meditative contemplation, and remain distinctly humble as you intermingle with others.
And do yourself a favor: put your Budweiser on ice.
with keen understanding and meditative contemplation,
even though they intermingle with others,
they remain distinct.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 23
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'll spare you the details of how this situation arose, but a friend of mine found himself in the middle of nowhere North Carolina, drinking a room-temperature Budweiser in a dingy, cat-piss apartment with no cat. Across from him on the couch was what he described as a lonely, angry, white guy in his mid-twenties. The context of this meeting (that eerily resembles a scene from the Jeffrey Dahmer docuseries I watched recently) is irrelevant to what I plan to focus on here: his backstory.
Guy was born in Russia, where his biological parents gave him up to an orphanage, where he was adopted by an American couple and brought him over to the States, where his adoptive father cheated on his adoptive mother and then got into a car accident that killed his mistress so he killed himself, inspiring his wife to spiral down a rabbit hole of crack and eventually OD. Oh, and somewhere in the midst of all this happening this fella was molested by his adoptive sister.
Isn’t that just a happy little way to start off life, where now you’re left to work a minimum wage job with no friends and hate everything?
No one wants to hear a no happy ending, dead end story, but they sure do put most of ours into perspective, don’t they? That’s the sole reason in which I share this with you, because if you’re feeling even the slightest bit of “woe is me” as you read this like I was, watch it evaporate into thin air. Be filled with keen understanding and meditative contemplation, and remain distinctly humble as you intermingle with others.
And do yourself a favor: put your Budweiser on ice.
TDH #71
The beauty of youth and flowers are guests for only a few days.
Like the leaves of the water-lily,
they wither and fade and finally die.
Be happy, dear beloved,
as long as your youth is fresh and delightful.
But your days are few—
you have grown weary, and now your body has grown old.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 23
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I lived in California I met this guy who preached a philosophy of “preserving the youth.” When I asked what he meant he told me to meet him at a nearby park the next day.
In the parking lot he handed me a small and brightly colored kids net before marching up a flight of stairs holding a big jar. I didn’t even ask what it was for, just followed him half way up until something caught his eye.
“Stand right there,” he said, hovering over a tightly-knit shrub next to the stairs. I stood stair-side of him, staring questioningly, when all the sudden he began shaking the back side of the shrub. Right then a small lizard shot out across the stairs past my feet as he yelled, “Get him!”
Too little too late I swiped the net at the scampering reptile and it was gone into a bush on the other side. “You’re gonna have to be quicker than that,” said lizard man, marching up the stairs.
Again something caught his eye and he lined up outside another bush.
Shake, shake, shake.
Pyooom!
Swat.
Miss.
I couldn’t help but laugh at my own second failure.
“Come on,” said lizard man. “You’re makin’ us look bad!”
“Alright, alright,” I laughed. “I’ve got the next one.”
And I did. And another, and another, before we ran out of stair bushes to shake, shake, shake.
From there we took our bounty back to his house, where we ate them.
(No, just kidding. Don’t eat park lizards.)
…where we put them in a tank and caught some bugs for them to eat, ordering a pizza for ourselves as we watched.
(NOT lizard pizza, thank you very much.)
After an hour we let them go, watching them scurry off to new bushes some insurmountable distance away for a lizard to ever get home. Hopefully they didn’t have families and shit, ya know?
Anyway, the experience was such a simple way to tap into that long lost inner child that gets too neglected in the face of adulthood, and, honestly, just a refreshing way to spend an afternoon.
So I ask you, dear reader: What are you doing to preserve the youth?
Like the leaves of the water-lily,
they wither and fade and finally die.
Be happy, dear beloved,
as long as your youth is fresh and delightful.
But your days are few—
you have grown weary, and now your body has grown old.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 23
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I lived in California I met this guy who preached a philosophy of “preserving the youth.” When I asked what he meant he told me to meet him at a nearby park the next day.
In the parking lot he handed me a small and brightly colored kids net before marching up a flight of stairs holding a big jar. I didn’t even ask what it was for, just followed him half way up until something caught his eye.
“Stand right there,” he said, hovering over a tightly-knit shrub next to the stairs. I stood stair-side of him, staring questioningly, when all the sudden he began shaking the back side of the shrub. Right then a small lizard shot out across the stairs past my feet as he yelled, “Get him!”
Too little too late I swiped the net at the scampering reptile and it was gone into a bush on the other side. “You’re gonna have to be quicker than that,” said lizard man, marching up the stairs.
Again something caught his eye and he lined up outside another bush.
Shake, shake, shake.
Pyooom!
Swat.
Miss.
I couldn’t help but laugh at my own second failure.
“Come on,” said lizard man. “You’re makin’ us look bad!”
“Alright, alright,” I laughed. “I’ve got the next one.”
And I did. And another, and another, before we ran out of stair bushes to shake, shake, shake.
From there we took our bounty back to his house, where we ate them.
(No, just kidding. Don’t eat park lizards.)
…where we put them in a tank and caught some bugs for them to eat, ordering a pizza for ourselves as we watched.
(NOT lizard pizza, thank you very much.)
After an hour we let them go, watching them scurry off to new bushes some insurmountable distance away for a lizard to ever get home. Hopefully they didn’t have families and shit, ya know?
Anyway, the experience was such a simple way to tap into that long lost inner child that gets too neglected in the face of adulthood, and, honestly, just a refreshing way to spend an afternoon.
So I ask you, dear reader: What are you doing to preserve the youth?
TDH #79
Virtue and vice do not come by mere words;
actions repeated, over and over again, are engraved on the soul.
You shall harvest what you plant.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 4, Stanza 21
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last night I got a to-go dinner at a restaurant on a popular boulevard. Meals there run around $20. I tell you this only because as I left the place, a man was leaning casually against a lamp post on the sidewalk waiting for me.
“Hey, man. I’m really hungry,” he said. “Think you could buy me something to eat?”
I looked at him, puzzled over whether he was homeless or just forgot his wallet, as his appearance didn’t make it clear. Then I had a flashback to a year prior when this same guy asked me for a meal outside another place nearby. That time I felt sorry enough to fork over some cash, but this time I didn’t get the same sympathetic feeling.
Is it possible to be a beggar with an ego shining through? Because this guy had become so good at scoring meals he’d grown arrogant. Not a facade of arrogance either. A genuine, full-belly arrogance.
He hadn’t exactly lost a ton of weight and grown a scraggly beard since I’d seen him last. No, it appeared as though he’d been eating pretty good over the last year. Almost TOO good. Almost like maybe I oughta quit my job and start begging around town myself.
I wondered if he’d been scamming top notch meals out of suckers like me all along. These weren’t sheepish eyes that expressed, “I could really use a dollar menu burger and fries, man.” No. He looked at me like, “I prefer oxtail with a side of cabbage. Oh, and a slice of their famous carrot cake if you don’t mind.”
Begging for spare change is one thing, buddy, but asking me to buy you a meal I don’t often treat myself to is homelessness with a pinky up. I wasn’t sure if I should give him props for gaming the system or ask for last year’s money back, with interest.
And I realize there’s a fine line between punching down and calling out a scam artist that I’m walking here, but it’s possible telling him off would have been the harvest he’d been planting all along. So either I’m a total asshole for thinking so, or I was fully justified in gorging myself in spite of that homeless prick. The world may never know.
actions repeated, over and over again, are engraved on the soul.
You shall harvest what you plant.
Siri Guru Granth - Ang 4, Stanza 21
(Translated by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last night I got a to-go dinner at a restaurant on a popular boulevard. Meals there run around $20. I tell you this only because as I left the place, a man was leaning casually against a lamp post on the sidewalk waiting for me.
“Hey, man. I’m really hungry,” he said. “Think you could buy me something to eat?”
I looked at him, puzzled over whether he was homeless or just forgot his wallet, as his appearance didn’t make it clear. Then I had a flashback to a year prior when this same guy asked me for a meal outside another place nearby. That time I felt sorry enough to fork over some cash, but this time I didn’t get the same sympathetic feeling.
Is it possible to be a beggar with an ego shining through? Because this guy had become so good at scoring meals he’d grown arrogant. Not a facade of arrogance either. A genuine, full-belly arrogance.
He hadn’t exactly lost a ton of weight and grown a scraggly beard since I’d seen him last. No, it appeared as though he’d been eating pretty good over the last year. Almost TOO good. Almost like maybe I oughta quit my job and start begging around town myself.
I wondered if he’d been scamming top notch meals out of suckers like me all along. These weren’t sheepish eyes that expressed, “I could really use a dollar menu burger and fries, man.” No. He looked at me like, “I prefer oxtail with a side of cabbage. Oh, and a slice of their famous carrot cake if you don’t mind.”
Begging for spare change is one thing, buddy, but asking me to buy you a meal I don’t often treat myself to is homelessness with a pinky up. I wasn’t sure if I should give him props for gaming the system or ask for last year’s money back, with interest.
And I realize there’s a fine line between punching down and calling out a scam artist that I’m walking here, but it’s possible telling him off would have been the harvest he’d been planting all along. So either I’m a total asshole for thinking so, or I was fully justified in gorging myself in spite of that homeless prick. The world may never know.
TheDevoutHumorist
Ancient wisdom with a modern application (and an often humorist twist)
- Kyle Woodruff's profile
- 8 followers
