:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

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:: Wednesday, September 20, 2006 ::

:: Only in Miami ::
Interesting thing about Miami, especially in South Beach, is that you often see the the abject poor interspersed with the filthy rich. It would seem that sometimes, these types are the same person. I'll explain:

A while ago, I was gassing up The Girlfriend's car. A guy pulls up alongside and asks me, if I could spare a couple of bucks so he could get back to where ever it was he said he was going. I wasn't really paying attention since my mind suffered a PC-like crash the moment a guy wearing a gaudy gold chain with a cross the size of Fisher Island, driving a large, black Mercedes 500S asked me, a perpetually broke waiter wearing my favorite tattered T-shirt and worn sweat pants, driving a Malibu (not even my car) "yo man, I need gas up my ride. You got a couple of extra bucks?"

Don't get me wrong, I'm not unsympathetic to the plight of the needy - even rich people misplace their Platinum Mastercards from time to time - but given surface disparity of our economic profiles, I just looked at him with impassively for a brief moment, wondering if he knew just how ridiculous he looked. My first reaction was to ask him "are you fucking kidding me?" but decided against it since it would have been rude and possibly might have gotten me shot. So when my internal computer rebooted, I simply looked at him in the eye and replied "no."

I had just started gassing my my car so I had a couple minutes to laugh at what just happened. I was about to leave when I noticed that guy had parked outside the convenience store and I suddenly realized I was thirsty. (Yeah, right.) I walked past his car (he was panhandling from other customers) and got myself a Gatorade (waitering makes me thirsty... yeah right). I twisted it open when I got back outside, with a nice loud *snap* sound that those tops make. He looked over, I looked back and took a pull, and walked back to my car. I know, I can be dick sometimes.

Then again, I might have been a little harsh. His Mercedes was two generations old.

(Yeah, right.)

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:20 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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