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In New York City, an advertising executive recently handed over her American Express Platinum Card to a homeless Manhattan man after he had asked her for change. He has been on and off the streets of Toronto since he was 14. His mother, he said, is a drinker and his dad died last year. He wants to get his driver’s licence and a job as a courier.
I handed out the cards and asked that they give them back when they’d finished shopping. Some who accepted didn’t come back, but those that did had stories to tell. A young man with a short orange Mohawk haircut and a Superman tattoo on his left shoulder sat alone on the sidewalk, a skateboard at his side. ” I said, handing him a card and telling him to buy what he needs, but that I need it back when he was done. He wanted to have pork and rice from a Vietnamese noodle joint on Spadina but they wouldn’t take the card. Of his most effective panning signs: “Like Obama, I like change,” and “Smile if you masturbate.
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That’s when I would reveal that I was a journalist. I handed the card back to Jason to spend the rest as he likes. Mark said he was hungry for a meal at a restaurant. A record of the card transactions shows that Mark spent .64 on a meal at The Corner Place restaurant at Jarvis and Front Streets. There was a hot sauce promotion underway outside Union Station. The vast majority walked past the panhandlers without a word. She hadn’t seen a penny of it, which her friend confirmed.
A man sitting on a suitcase at Bay and King Streets was suspicious of the offer. Another young man, James, was selling newspapers for the homeless in Yorkville. But, no, she wouldn’t have time to leave her post to buy them and get back to hand over the card I offered. A history of transactions on that card shows it was used nine times over two consecutive days for purchases at Mc Donald’s and the LCBO. She’s 60, has one daughter and seven grandchildren, who she seldom sees.
He said he was living with his sick and jobless father. I have a roof over my head.” He turned down a card. “No,” I said, as I reached into a pocket, “but I have . I left it with her and said I would come back another day. Same deal with Al, who stood around the corner, holding a sign that read “Hungry and Homeless.” He said he needed jeans and shoes. “I’ll be here.” Despite a few visits, I didn’t see Al again. A few days later, Joanne was back at her spot, looking rougher. She was panhandling with an acquaintance, a man who had appeared with a can of beer and poured half into her paper cup. She worked for Bell Canada as a service rep but got “fed up.” She’s been panhandling on and off for 10 years and lives in subsidized housing. The pair she was wearing, green capris, were dirty and damp.
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