I was walking down Bourke Street

I was walking down Bourke Street this morning when a man coming the other way held my gaze and smiled and said, “Good morning.” In a friendly kind of just passing way, not in a wanting something kind of way, I thought.

“Good morning,” I said.

He was a big man, with a face like a basket ball, you know, a big round head with a smile. He was well dressed, in a casual hoodie and jeans kind of way, well groomed with short hair. He had that just washed kind of look about him. He was clean-shaven.

“Excuse me, sir,” I heard, when I had not taken more than a few steps passed him. Well spoken, correct grammar and pronunciation.

I turned back in his direction to see that he was already facing in mine.

“Can I ask you a big favour?”

I’m not sure that I thought, here we go, then and there. I would have normally, but it was morning and I hadn’t spoken yet and my mind had not really engaged with the world, in any way - it was already a block ahead in Breadtop with a tray and tongs, to be truthful. I think I cocked my head to listen to what he had to say. Give it your best shot, I'm easy to get along with. He seemed like someone from out of town who was about to ask for directions.

“I’m not a drug addict, or anything like that. I come from a good family, or at least I did...”

Okay, I’ve engaged with you now, penny dropping. I’m understanding what it is that you want. I’ve heard enough to understand the pitch. “No, sorry.” I turned back in the direction I was heading, towards work. Judges decision is final, no correspondence and all that. I walk to work buddy, if I gave to everyone who asked me for a “dime” I’d simply be going to work to support you guys. I have to turn up at the life sucking salt mines every day, why the hell shouldn’t you?

The hill down to Swanston Street stretched out in front of me. The soft glow of the morning radiated all around me. I was thankful I didn't have to ask people for money. No matter what I might think, it must be an awful predicament to be in. I almost felt sorry for the poor chap.

At that point, he J-walked across Bourke Street, hailed a taxi, got in and drove away. I turned and watched the taxi head up Bourke Street turn left into Spring Street and disappear.

I turned back and kept walking. Maybe, I could ask someone for taxi fare, myself?