Seriously? You must be joking.

They just look at me. The older one is perched on one of those motorized scooters. The younger one has left her milk crate to approach me. She looks back at the other one. I'm not sure they heard me so I repeat myself.

"Seriously? You must be joking."

"Is there something funny about me and my mother being poor and hungry?"

"I didn't imply that and no."

"So, can you help us out?"

"I don't carry cash."

"Who doesn't carry cash?"

"Aside from the obvious?" They're looking confused again. I need to save the wit for those who can appreciate it. My readers, perhaps? "By that, I mean you." Still nothing. "I don't! As I just now said mere seconds ago."

"Well... maybe you can give us a ride to McDonald's or something? Buy us some happy meals to make us feel better? Might make you feel better, too."

"Where would I put the scooter?"

"Oh, she could wait here for us. She could wait all day if she needed to." There's something about the way she's looking at me. It's not entirely unlike hunger, only I'm the meat. That's a crazy thought, but those eyes are insane and they want something from me. Something that isn't food. "Might be nice with just the two of us. Might be real nice." Oh my fucking-

"Are you... hitting on me?"

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I already regret asking this, but..." Forgive me for how horrible this is going to be, but I'm fairly certain that I read the situation correctly. And, I wasn't happy about it. The happy meals connection just makes it all that much creepier and dirty. "Are you trying to barter with me? Are you soliciting me for chicken nuggets in exchange for... sex?"

"No one said anything about chicken nuggets or sex, darling. But, would that be so bad?"

"Yes, it would. Also, illegal." I look at the older woman who has been content to remain perfectly silent throughout this exchange. "Are you proud of yourself? This is your daughter, right? The direct product of your upbringing and guidance? I have that right, don't I?" She nods and looks down the sidewalk. I also look around. I'm surprised we haven't acquired a crowd. Everyone is a little too busy in Charleston to give a damn, especially in this neighborhood. I should have expected it. I was completely unprepared for this.

"So, what do you say?"

"I say no. I say that if you were legitimately hungry and in need, that I would gladly go to the grocer right now and buy you a loaf of bread and a pack of bologna. I would also not expect sex in return. Actually, I'd do it and expect no sex in return. None. Just the groceries. For free. For you. For nothing."

"What would we do with that?"

"Feed yourselves for a week and for a fraction of the cost of a fucking happy meal."

"We just want some food, honey. We're hungry."

"No, you're really not. Get your skank asses to a shelter. Alright? Stop hassling people. I know the holiday season is upon us and that means it's open season for you people to prey on the heartstrings of the sensitive and meek, but you've got the wrong guy. You have no idea."

"You're a heartless, soulless, evil sonuvabitch."

"Whoa, there. You need to back that up. I'm not the one whoring myself for fast food."

"Well... if you weren't an evil Yankee bastard, you'd help us out."

"Is it that obvious? It's because I enunciate, isn't it? Possibly also the vocabulary, I imagine. Wait. That's ridiculous. That was arrogant and condescending, even for me."

"It's ok. We're know we're not that smart, but we're still people. Poor, hungry people."

"Yes, I agree with all of that. I just don't think I should generalize an entire population based on a small, select, unfortunate portion of it. I happen to love West Virginia." Those are smiles. I have neutralized the debate. Before I lose them again, I need to make my position clear. "Listen, I'd love to help you out. I would. But, I'm simply not going to. I still could, even considering everything that's just happened, but I won't. Maybe I should, but I'm not a perfect, selfless person. I'm basically good, most of the time. I have a heart. I care. But, I'm a man of principle before any of that other shit. I do believe in charity, but on my terms and without the panhandling and harassment. As I said, I'd gladly help you out if I felt you were truly in need. But, I don't think you are. I mean, you're in want maybe, but you're not in need. There's a very significant difference."

"What does that mean?"

"Maybe this will help: beggars can't be choosers and if wishes were horses, beggars would ride." They're doing that confused, distant, glass eye thing again. I expected that. "As my grandmother would say: Wish in one hand, shit in the other - see which one fills up first."

"You're the devil!"

"Could be. Or it could also be that I don't take too kindly to bitches asking me for money as I'm coming out of the unemployment office."