Excuse me, miss...

A man came to our door tonight and rang the bell. I should have known something was up when the bell rang after 10PM and we weren't expecting anyone. MT was in the bedroom playing guitar and didn't hear it, so I went to the door alone. First words out of the man's mouth were, "Uh, hey, how you doin'? Oh, you don't remember me, do you?" Nope, I tend not to remember people I've not met before. I would have remembered if I had met a man named Danny who was missing a couple front teeth and had an answer for everything.

The problem with wanting to help people all the time is that when I actually say no it feels bad, really bad - even when I know it was the right thing to do. He told me a very detailed story (first sign of bullshit - too many details) about how the house he lives in was set on fire just last night by the woman who owned it because she wanted to get the insurance money. He was now homeless and living in the car wash... but then he mentioned just wanting to get out of the car wash for a night or two because he'd been there so long, which didn't jive with his burned down house story from 30 seconds before. So he was ringing my bell "again" to see if I could help him "just get 2 car fares". I said no, I wouldn't be helping him do that and then he said he needed the car fares to get across town to a program set up by something-or-other ministries. The saga continued. I had to interrupt him and say again that I wouldn't be helping him. He went on about some other angle. Then I asked him to leave.

It felt awful. I knew the guy was full of bullshit, and it still felt awful. I don't know his real story. I just know how real my guilt is even though I shouldn't have it.