BumGear - What America is all About
Have you ever been walking down the street and had a foul smelling, poorly dressed, unshaven individual ask you for money? If you answered, “No,” you are either reading this blog from a communist country or you have never been to a city with a population over 12. Bums are everywhere. Even nice, clean cut cities like
Bums tend to like to fuck up my nights. Bums have harassed my dates. Bums have broken into my car. Bums have pounded on my window as I was trying to do a line of cocaine off my center console. Can’t a guy do some fucking blow in peace without you demanding to “Give me some of that sweet stuff???” Jesus. Anyway, because bums, and more specifically Coconut Grove Bums, piss me off so much, I refuse to give them money. But I have a heart, I really do. And because I do not look down on the outdoor human inhabitants of the city of
No, not B.U.M. Equipment that was so popular among the “Overweight-and-at-the-gym” set in the late 80’s, but BumGear, clothing worn by actual, real-live
A bum approaches you on the street. You are most likely at least four or five pitchers into the night and probably stumbling back to your car/getting a cslice of pizza/makinh out with a fat girl. Sometimes all three at once. You tell them “Sorry, I’m not going to GIVE you anything. But I will pay you $3 for your shirt.” I have never, ever been turned down. Occasionally they will negotiate a higher price, and sometimes I’ll take it. But I always get the shirt. Inevitably, after said bum gives you his shirt and you hand him the cash, he says, “Okay, man, lemme have my shirt back.” To which I reply “I’m sorry. That was a business transaction. This is now my shirt, and that is now your three dollars. You may spend it on food. You may spend it on crack, you may spend it on malt liquor. You may even invest it in the stock market. But I am keeping the shirt.” I have been followed blocks by bums begging for their clothes back, but usually as soon as I pass a convenience store that sells Steel Reserve in a 32 oz. bottle they forget I even exist.
A girlfriend of a friend of mine was visiting form
When I give currency to a bum in exchange for a good, it makes us equals. We both gave up something in order to get something in return. I am not paying someone to degrade himself like those fine individuals who created Bumfights. Nor am I exploiting the bum, because, as I said, I am overpaying. Had simply given him money, it would have put me in a position where I would feel I were better than him. Here, take some money, you need it more than me. How condescending. How arrogant. How dare YOU call ME an asshole when you are the one putting yourself on a level above a bum! You, sir, obviously do not understand the inherent justice and equality involved in a fair business transaction. When it comes to BumGear, if only for that brief instant, the cracker and the crackhead are equals. And isn’t that what