I don't even live in THAT KIND of city

We all kind of consider Memphis a second-class city. Not in the way that we're not as good as other cities so much that we're just in a smaller playing class. If we were an NCAA team, we'd be be a Division II team. If we were an actor, we'd be a B-List celebrity. Or maybe a C.

Still, that doesn't mean that we don't have some of the same problems that larger cities have. And that's never been more apparent to me than today. Don't know why that is, exactly, except that I spent some time in the Midtown Starbucks that I don't often go to. I usually stick to Downtown during the week.

Now, this Starbucks is hardly in a "bad neighborhood." It's right on the main drag, the 6-lane boulevard that runs all the way from the Mississippi River downtown to way Out East by my house. It's a perfectly respectable Starbucks on a corner of an intersection that I can't recall having any crime issues in the past several years.

But when you sit in this Starbucks and look out the window, you have a lovely view of a big (very big), old (very old) abandoned and run-down house. With a small back porch that is home to someone who is otherwise home-less. Here, let me see if I can take a picture of it for you.

(Obviously, the Lexus parked next to it is a Starbucks customer's and does not belong to the homeless people who camp out on the back porch there.)

Let me see if I can zoom in a little on the back porch.

(You may not be able to tell, but there is a tennis shoe and some empty plastic cups along with some other trash.)

So when I was leaving here today, a man approached me holding some kind of creased and worn prayer card or something. He started to tell me his story but he was kind of mumbling and I couldn't really understand him. Something about, "I used to be a...something something...but God took it away from me" then some kind of plea for help. I gave him my pat, "Sorry, I don't have any cash" (which is often true but actually wasn't entirely true this time) and just kept walking. He went up to the car pulling up into the lot.

(Just to clarify, I don't think this particular guy lives on the porch next door. Although he may. I've only ever seen someone actually on the porch once. It was before work one morning in the winter time and there were two heavy-set men out there. I followed our then-Representative Harold Ford, Jr. (D) out of the Starbucks and across the parking lot. One of the men hollered at Harold asking him for money. He hollered back and asked the man if he'd voted for him and kept walking.)

(Which is not to say that I don't like Harold Ford Jr. because I do. In fact, it was at his rally for the Senate race that I got to meet Bill Clinton. I just think it's an interesting story. I don't tell it to sit in judgement b/c let's face it, he did the same thing I did when confronted with a panhandler.)

It's not that I don't want to help. The real reason I don't give them money is b/c of all that I know about addiction and my personal experience in AA. Not that all homeless people are alcoholics. I know better than that. But I do think that addiction contributes to a lot of homelessness so I refuse to give someone money so he can buy a hit of meth or a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20.

But something else also happened inside the Starbucks. I was just kind of getting set up with my laptop and my NYT crossword puzzle and my iced grande, 2-pump vanilla nonfat latte and my raspberry swirl loaf cake, when this guy - a youngish African American guy, in his early 20s maybe, holding a job application in one hand and a pen in the other - comes over and asks if he can use my phone. Which? Uh, no. I couldn't believe how quickly the lie came out of my mouth: "It's a work phone, I can't let you." OMG. Not like I'd planned in advance with an excuse for just such an occasion. Wow, I've become so callous.

So the guy moves on to the next table, where a guy not much older than himself - a white guy in maybe his late 20s - is sitting with his lap top. The job applicant asked is he could use his phone. I couldn't hear the guy's response b/c his back was to me, but he seemed to be asking the guy a series of questions. Maybe who did he need to call, etc. Then, (and I did hear this one) he asks the guy if he's sick! Like maybe he didn't want him to get XDRTB germs on his phone! And then he hands it over.

And I'm figuring the guy made a call to get some info that he needed for the job app, ya know? He didn't spend too long on the phone and then handed it back to the dude. I'm not really paying a lot of attention at this point b/c the crossword puzzle is going really well and I've filled in 3 out of 4 of the long ones already.

But when I look up again, the wanting-to-use-the-phone guy is sitting at the having-a-phone guy's table with him. And the more I watch, it seems like the laptop guy is helping the unemployed guy fill out the application. And I'm feeling a bit like a twat or at the very least not a very compassionate citizen. When the two men part, they get up and shake hands.

So...I don't really know where I'm going with all this, except to say that I must be some kind of snotty democrat driving my mercedes while I expect my government to take care of all the country's social ills dammit. Which, you know, isn't entirely true, but it sure is the impression I'm getting of myself today.

Kaliegh is never going to read my blog again.