Thursday, February 9, 2012
Like clockwork, 2 men appeared, pushing a cart and carrying a card table. As they unfolded the legs, the men in the line perked up just a bit. Plastic bins filled with donuts were distributed, a free Dunkin' Donuts if you will. Each man selected his favorite and moved on, man after man after man. Most took a bite as they walked away.
My dismay oozed forth, on many levels, as I thought of this dehumanizing ritual, 2 wordless but efficient donut distributors, dozens of men without homes. Death by donut probably won't be instant, nor will death by dignity destruction.
Wonder what kind of lives each of these men had before standing in this line? Wonder if their career plan included a survival donut break? Wonder if the distributors feel good about their "charity," serving day-old donuts to men and pigeons?
Sure, homeless people may get free stuff, but they have to wait a long time, and after all that it's not good for them anyhow. No coffee. No tables. No chairs. No dignity. No respect. Just like feeding pigeons.