It was a cold December evening on the dark side of town.
I was on my way home.
As I walked, I almost stepped on a homeless woman. She was stretched out on the curb. Hopeless, I thought.
I felt sympathy; it was Christmas time and she was clearly alone with next to nothing.
I had just spent the day hustling. No I wasn’t selling drugs; I was helping my uncle sell some products for his new business. I made about $400 that day. I reached into my pocket, grabbed a crisp $100 note, and handed it to her. She took it. No thank you, no nothing.
I mean I wasn’t expecting her to go crazy with joy, but still.
She just looked at me.
I felt weird. Very weird. But what she did after was even weirder. She took the $100 note and ripped it into two pieces. No, this wasn’t a magic trick. This was real life. She ripped the note and threw it to the ground.
I was stunned.
What the fuck was wrong with this bitch? I thought to myself.
I called her crazy, chuckled to myself, and walked away freely.
Years later, after undergoing more life experiences, I recalled this incident. After thinking about it for some time, I realized I had it completely wrong.
I was crazy and she was free.
Best $100 I’ve ever spent.