Smoking Gun

I’m as anti-smoking as any non-smoker.  So it was a surprise when I found myself tempted to buy a pack of cigarettes for someone Monday afternoon.  Better explain:  As I waited at the Rhode Island platform to catch the Red Line, and old guy in an old-fashioned, manual wheelchair asked me for some change for lunch.  I was already mad at myself because I’d left my baggie of change (see the “$3.99″ post) at home so I dug in my wallet and gave him all of my spare coins.  He looked to be in his 60′s and he wore a homemade name tag that identified him as a Vietnam veteran named Al.  He wore old shabby clothes and a red felt Santa hat.  At least he was in the holiday spirit!

Al thanked me and put the money in a plastic container – about the size of a Cool Whip container – which was already full of coins.  He then started talking pretty loudly to no one in particular.  When he got on the metro with me he was still talking to anyone within earshot, particularly to another, younger guy in an electronic wheelchair who obviously didn’t want to engage in conversation.  He talked about being homeless for three yearas and shelters and how he tried to get an electronic wheelchair but couldn’t.  I watched the whole thing from my seat, feeling a mix of compassion and gratitude that Al wasn’t fixating his conversation directly at me. 

Then Al maneuvered his wheelchair to pick up an old, used cigarette butt off of the metro floor.  It looked like it had been there for awhile and must have been stepped on at least six hundred times.  He put the butt in his mouth like he was going to smoke it the minute he got off the metro and found a light.   Honestly, there couldn’t have been more than 1/4″ of cigarette left on that thing before he would hit that cottony filter stuff at the end. 

When he and I got off the metro at Gallery Place, he still had that nasty butt in his mouth and said something about having had a bullet lodged in his spine for 37 years.  He thanked me for my donation and wheeled away.  I thanked him for his service – something I’ve never said to a homeless-looking guy who stated he was a vet. 

I wonder if he actually smoked that disgusting butt.  And I wonder if I would have bought him a pack of cigarettes if we’d been near a vendor.  I might have. 

Does buying cigarettes for a disabled, possibly homeless vet a good thing or a bad thing?

 Get out and give back.