He explained to me that he had been homeless for three years and was in need of money to pay for his medication. Regardless of whatever doubt I had about the validity of his story, I did not think it was my place to question him.

I opened my wallet and instantly felt my heart drop as I saw that it was empty. I had forgotten to run to the ATM that morning, and now I had to find a way to tell the gentleman that I could not help him.

I must have shown a look of disappointment because the man gently grabbed my hand and said, “It’s okay son. Thanks anyway.”

I felt completely defeated because in the back of my mind, I knew that I was capable of helping him and didn’t. Before he walked away, I asked him if he was hungry. If I couldn’t give him cash, a nice hot meal on a subzero day hopefully would suffice.

As we walked across the street to grab a slice of pizza, he could not stop telling me how thankful he was. That was when he told me to call him Charlie.

When I walked into the restaurant, I told Charlie I would order first since I was in a hurry, but he could get whatever he wanted from the menu.

I placed my order and returned to Charlie to see if he had made a decision as to what he wanted to eat.

Once Charlie made up his mind, I asked the employee at the counter if I could order a slice for my friend. I thought it was a rhetorical question.

But he replied, “No.”

I initially assumed he was joking, so I paid no attention to his response. Then he continued to explain Charlie had to wait outside for his food because he would disturb the other customers.
I could not believe what I heard. When I asked if he really was willing to send someone homeless back outside in the freezing cold, he insisted the manager would not allow Charlie to eat inside. He contended it was nothing “personal.”

I instantly became engulfed in rage, and I demanded to speak to his manager.

Before I knew it, I was yelling at the poor guy at the counter and he looked completely defenseless.
Apparently, the manager was not in at the time, so I calmly explained to him that such discrimination was wrong and insulting. As a paying customer, doesn’t Charlie reserve the right to eat wherever he pleases?

In a much more respectful tone, I was able to convince the employee to let Charlie eat inside simply because it was the moral thing to do. I had to leave quickly, but I apologized for my rude behavior and then said goodbye to Charlie, wishing him well in the future.

As the day went on, I couldn’t but help to think how awful I felt about raising my voice at the employee. Granted, I completely disagreed with his treatment of Charlie, but the situation certainly could’ve been handled better on my part.

I suppose what most bothered me about the employee’s request of Charlie was it represented a very distasteful societal view of people in poverty, one I refused to concede to.

In my eyes, this was prejudice in its ugliest form. The fact that someone actually would tell a person to eat outside in the cold saddens me more than I can put into words.

Just looking at the employee’s face, it was as if he wanted to tell me that Charlie deserved his own hardship (though I don’t want to put words in his mouth). No matter how Charlie ended up in his current situation, isn’t he still in need of help?

So if you’re looking for a moral to this story, I guess it would have to do more with what I did wrong than the demands made by the employee. Despite how passionate I felt at the time about the treatment of Charlie, I’m embarrassed by my disrespectful actions.

How could I ask for Charlie to be respected when I could not do the same to a man who thought he was simply just doing his job?

Regardless of if you agree with the employee’s position or not, it brings up an important point about how to handle inequality within our community. We can’t expect people to change if we don’t go about pursuing it in a respectful way.

Terence Gipson is a global studies in the arts and humanities junior. Reach him at gipsonte@msu.edu.