First, something on the lighter side:

On the way to work one day this week, I saw a gentleman walking down the street. He wore dark glasses and had a red-tipped white cane that he was tapping and swinging with a practiced hand. As I was at a red light, I watched him for some time approaching the intersection. Just as the light turned green, and I was deep in contemplative thought about blindness in general, I saw the gentleman lift his left arm skyward and seemingly scrutinize it. It was just as I was turning away from the intersection that I realized he was wearing a watch!

Speaking of brief encounters with unknown people:

On my way home from a long day of work, thanking heaven that it was finally Friday, I pulled into the gas station near my house. I wanted only to buy a pack of cigarettes, perhaps a lottery ticket, then I'd be gone.

Ony my way up to the door (I was forced to park about 3 miles away due to the Friday crowd right off of the 680/80 interchange), and minding my own business, I thought I heard some mumblings in my direction. This continued until I was near the curb to the building. Finally it dawned on me that a slightly disheveled man was speaking to me.

"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Let me be honest," he began, "I lost my job a few weeks ago, but I recently got a new job with UPS and I won't get paid until next week, but I haven't eat-"
"I can't help you," I said.
"I understand. Thanks."

I went about my business in the store and thought briefly of the encounter. As I was leaving, I went so far as to put the bottle of Coke that I had purchased in my sweatshirt pocket, so that I didn't have to feel guilty for spending money on "food" while this guy was hungry. I also took the long way back to my car for fear of re-encountering the man.

Noticing out of the corner of my eye that he was completely gone, I started wondering if I shouldn't have spent a buck or two on a hot dog or something and given it to him? Of course my original thinking while he asked for alms was that he wanted money for beer. But as I thought about what I would do were I starving, it occurred to me that while giving money to panhandlers may be inviting anything, giving food could only help, right? The right-side of my brain immediately stated that it would be better to teach him to fish, so to speak, and started harboring fantasies of taking him home and giving him a decent meal, bath, shave, etc., and trusting that what he had told me about his new job was true.

The left-side of my brain jumped in and asked me if this would have been safe? It concocted a fantasy where I would ask the man, as we walked to my car, to please put on the handcuffs that would be on the passenger side seat, in order to better protect myself just in case he wasn't on the up-and-up. Of course, this fantasy went too far -- he screamed, called the police and described me as a lunatic kidnapper and described my car. I was picked up before I could even drive the few blocks to my house and incarcerated, unable to explain why I would ask a person to wear handcuffs, even with the best of intentions.

Shaking off the dream-scenarios, I wondered if perhaps he wouldn't have preferred a hamburger. Or a microwave burrito. "Here," I'd say, "there are plenty of condiments inside." What would it have taken to have spent 10 extra seconds accommodating the guy? I'm certainly not rich, and we often live paycheck to paycheck, but I'm not so poor that a dollar or two would have broken the bank.

His disappearance as I walked back to my car bothered me more than if he had still been there. For some reason, the words of Jesus came to me: "Whatever you neglected to do unto one of the least of these, you neglected to do unto me!" It seemed almost like a test: some unknown apparition in the dark asked for help, and I refused instinctively. Something tells me that I did not pass.

If the situation arises again, I will be compelled to at least listen to the whole spiel, rather than walk off. After all, he may be the hungry man that looked at his watch.