It was my second year in the big bad city. I met some cool chicks who became my, to use that horrible term, BFFs until the growing realization of our mutual differences turned everything sour. Some remain a friend, some I want to slap really hard across the face, and some who I want to dump slushie all over and say “chill out!”
It was a cool, crisp December evening and my gal pals and I decided to get a cake for one of our friend’s birthday, but since we were still in the middle of exams and therefore technically anti-social for a couple of weeks, we held an impromptu mini-birthday party in the student commons area on campus – super lame I know, but I thought it was cute at the time.
We got an Oreo cake from the grocery store.
I can’t remember why but no one ate the cake and we ended up just chatting instead. Anyways, for some reason, and again I can’t remember why, the uneaten cake ended up in my hands because no one, including myself, wanted it but couldn’t bring ourselves to throw away a whole uneaten Oreo cake.
On my way to the subway, I ran into a strange woman (possibly panhandler/homeless) who asked for spare change. I told her that I honestly didn’t have any money on me because I’m a broke student. At that stage in my life I still felt guilty about not giving people money if they asked for it, be they strangers, best friends, colleagues, siblings, or whomever.
She didn’t look disappointed or heartbroken or anything, and yet I still felt guilty. I decided to offer alternative to money: OREO CAKE!
Have you ever experienced the overwhelming feeling of goodness when you perform a single act of charity? It’s powerful shit man! There are people out there who are truly selfless, and bless their heart for trying to fix our crappy world. And then there are people, like myself, average Joes and Joeeanas, whose heads swell with self-righteousness, narcissism, and arrogance but at the time are blind to it happening.
If I can describe it accurately, the homeless woman’s facial expression was similar to someone who might’ve noticed the pungent smell of fart in a crowded elevator. She had the “oh god someone tooted” look. The untouched cake I offered was perhaps equivalent to a box of farts, which is maybe understandable. The homeless woman looked at me, looked at the cake, looked at me again and screamed “I don’t like chocolate!” then walked away.
I was left there in the middle of a crowded street absolutely horrified with onlookers staring at the dumbass who offered a homeless person cake. Lesson learned.
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