As I walked into Sainsbury’s last week I smiled at the homeless man sitting outside. But smiling seemed a bit weak, so I decided to buy him a sandwich. The conversation in my head, as I stood by the take-out food counter, went something like this:
Get him a cheese and ham. Oh, what if he’s a vegetarian? He won’t be. Get the cheese and ham. He’ll appreciate the protein. But he could be veggie. Cheese and tomato would be better. And it’s cheaper. FFS it’s a sandwich, you tight cow. Get the cheese and ham
(My hand hovered between the cheese and ham and the cheese and tomato)
I’ll go back outside and ask him. Don’t be ridiculous. He won’t be vegetarian. Get the cheese and ham and get on with the rest of your bloody shopping.
I picked up the cheese and ham and moved on.
On walking outside, the homeless man had gone but had been replaced by someone else.
“I got this for the man that was here before,” I said, handing over the cheese and ham sandwich. “He seems to have gone. Do you want it?”
“Thanks love,” said the man. “He just left a minute ago.”
“OK. Well if he comes back you could share it with him?”
“Oh, he’ll not want this love. He’s a vegetarian.”