Bummed

The population of vagrants in Galveston has dwindled significantly since Hurricane Ike. It's been nice, actually. I was so used to having to dodge requests for change as I walked anywhere in Downtown Galveston, and in various random other parts of the city, that it was a huge relief when I could walk around in peace.

I'm assuming that many of the bums left the island before the storm on the shuttle bus and are unable to get back, since the shuttle bus doesn't bring people back. Plus, the Salvation Army had to close down due to damages and is slowly working to reopen in a different location. Meaning, there is no place for vagrants to eat or sleep on the island.

After work last night I had to run by the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. As I was leaving, there was a man sitting on the newspaper stand in front. It's the place where the regular bum used to stand, but he hasn't been there for months. I was trying to determine if this was a man to avoid eye contact with. He couldn't have been older than 30. He was wearing a track suit and carrying a black backpack that was still in good, clean shape. The only strange thing was his cell phone was charging in the outlet on the outside wall of the pharmacy.

Sure enough, as I walked by, "Scuse me ma'am. Would you happen to know where I can find a mission?"

I don't know what a "mission" is, so I stupidly said, "What?"

He repeated himself, which did me no good. I quickly figured out what he was looking for and said I would be of no help. I knew the Salvation Army had closed down temporarily and didn't know where else he could go.

He then proceeded with, "Do you know the Subway right over there?"

"Yes."

"Well, would you mind going over there with me to get me some food?"

I thought quickly, and decided that I did not want to walk anywhere alone with this man, let alone drive him over in my car. "I'm sorry, I have to hurry home to meet my husband."

"Would you happen to have any money so I could go get some for myself?"

Uh, nope. Sorry buddy, but I don't give handouts. "No, I'm sorry."

He thanked me for stopping to talk to him and I said goodbye. As I was driving away I was feeling horribly guilty for not buying the man dinner. I was just focused on the concept of going somewhere with this guy and risking myself and my baby. It wasn't until I was driving away that I thought of the fact that I could have gone to get him dinner and brought it back.

The guilt is still eating away at me a little. What would you have done?