Strangers?

Last night on my way out of Joplin, I noticed my car looked like crap (thanks rainstorm).  So I thought I'd run it by the wash on 20th and Rangeline... you know, the shady one with bad lighting and bums everywhere.

I pull in and notice a couple of semi's in the back with the driver's standing outside next to two very scandalously dressed ladies.  Well, "ladies" is probably a bit of a reach.  I go through the wash and then drive around to the vacuum's, where I notice a man pacing back and forth.

Before I continue, let me fill you in on something.  I'm very...stupidly-brave.  I've picked up hitch-hiker's, camped alone, talked to stranger's in the abandoned train station by Landreth Park, and all sorts of other things I would never tell my parents.  And as crazy as this sounds, I have good judgement.   These things all sound unsafe, but I feel okay about them.  There are times when I've said no because it was too dangerous, or I had a bad feeling, but not many.   I mean, as a Christian, what's the worst that could happen...heaven?

So back to the man.  He's standing towards the front of my car with a white trash bag over his shoulder.  He's talking (to no one), and pacing.   He looks about 40 with a balding head and glasses that cover his face.  If you put him in a suit, he would look like your friendly neighborhood investor.  If you gave him a mug shot, he would look like a serial killer.  I wouldn't be surprised if I saw him at Edward Jones or on the 10 o'clock news.

I get out of my car and start organizing all my crap, and at this point he's on my left and moving further away from me. Five minutes later I'm done and I start to reach for the vacuum, and he's standing to my immediate right... like we're talking within my arm span, which bothers me for two reasons: 1) I'm usually very aware of my surroundings, and the fact that I didn't see (or even hear) him circle around and start walking towards me in that HUGE open area was unreal, and 2) I had no idea how long he'd been standing there, that close to me.  And let's add a third: His trash bag was on the ground next to him and he had one hand in his coat pocket and the other in his jean pocket.

This is one of those times when I just didn't feel scared.  I was a little startled, but I don't even think I jumped, and I certainly didn't show it in my face.  I guess more than anything I was pissed that I didn't notice him sooner, and I was a little curious as to why I couldn't see his hands, but I didn't feel the need to get away.  Maybe I've got more fight than flight in me.

He started stuttering.  "S-sss-sp-spare a quarter for a loaf of bread?"  He was making direct eye contact with me, and he never broke it, which is good.  Now that he was closer, I noticed other things, like that he was clean-shaven, he didn't really smell like a bum, and he had a burn-tan, like the kind you get when you work in your yard all day.  He wasn't fidgety, he wasn't scary, he didn't look cracked out... he was just a guy.  I said, "Yeah, actually I have a couple of bucks," and handed him the cash in my back pocket.   He took it, said, "Have a good night," picked up his trash bag, and walked away.   I vacuumed my car and headed for home.  I turned down 20th street and there he was, walking by Aldi's with a loaf of bread and a gallon of milk.   He actually bought groceries.

I wish I knew his name, and his story.  I wish I knew where he was from, what growing up was like, and what his family was/is like.  And I wonder if he ever thinks about Jesus...if he's bitter, if he's apathetic, if he's a follower.  I guess I really want to know how alike we are, because I bet it's more than I could imagine.