Concepts in the Paradox

I went to Trader Joe’s as part of my normal weekend hunting and gathering ritual.

As I was shopping for wine, a bald shaven Aussie said to me “Nice shirt brother.”

I turned his direction only to end up facing his wife, who said, “Oh let me see!”

So I stood there as a random but semi-attractive woman read my No Starch Press shirt.

“Oh, No Starch! I get it, hehehe.”

I also ended up in line behind them, with a cashier that was from Nigeria.

“I’ll need to see some ID.” he told as the check ID alarm went off on the register, so I presented my license to which he said, “Oh, that’s not you. That can’t be you, it looks nothing like you!”

“Sure it is me!” I shot back, thinking perhaps he was just joking with me.

“No, no man, you look much healthier than the person in this picture, how long ago was this?”

He was actually being honest, and during my food purchase we discussed where we were from, how much more people walk in the city, and how he was working for his landlord: each paycheck went to his rent.

The question that remained in my mind on my way home was, am I that much healthier than when I first moved to the city? The photo was from almost 3 years ago, I suppose that’s ancient history now, right?

It was a late night at work, and getting home, having a beer, and slipping off into a deep sleep was all that was on my mind.

As I crossed Market and landed on the “wrong” side of 5th street, that is the Tenderloin side, a short man ran up to me and started motioning excitedly to a box wrapped in plastic bags in his hands. My normal programming is to keep walking and ignore such people, but this annoying man was insistent.

“Young man! Young man!” he said in a hurried tone.

I ignored him.

“Young man! Would you like to buy a laptop? Cheap!” he said as he was out of breath and trying to catch up with my now hurried pace.

“Would you like to buy a laptop?!” he insisted, saying over and over again. It was time to step up my efforts.

“No!” I demanded, though I thought about a cheap laptop being useful.

“I’ll sell it cheap!”

“NO!” I insisted, walking even faster. I thought about how this laptop was likely stolen and/or broken, and how buying stolen merchandise not only a crime, but cheating capitalism.

“Would you like to buy a laptop?!” he said again, as though I hadn’t heard him all this time.

“No, go away!” I yelled, tired of this game.

I hear 5th and Market is a great place to get a stolen laptop on a Friday night.

“Is this yours?” a homeless man asked me while I was doing my laundry.

I looked at what he wants holding in his hand, it was 12 pennies.

“Uh, no.” I responded in a very confused tone.

“Are you sure this isn’t yours?” he persisted.

“Uhm, no.” I repeated.

“Cuz if it is yours, you should take it. I’m not gonna take it!” he demanded, obviously not wanting the guilt of taking 12 cents from someone.

“How about this. It is mine, but you can give it to someone on the street?”

And so with that, he gave the twelve cents to the first person who came by, and that person was literally overjoyed with his new gift.