Spare Change

I was walking on Main Street in Ventura. It was a cold evening and I hadn’t been there in sometime, so everything was fresh and new. I was peeking into the windows of storefronts when a man asked me for some spare change.

“I’m sorry man, I’m fresh out,” I said. I wasn’t lying. I kept walking.

I walked down a side street to get a closer look at the Ventura Theatre. It’s a nice theatre, rich in history. When I was done looking at the theatre I turned around to walk back up Main Street.

“Hey man, can you spare some change?” It was the same man asking for money again. He had his hands in his pockets and was standing in the shadows. He had walked a block up the street and I ran into him again.

“No sorry man,” I said.

“Oh yeah, I remember you I saw you down the street,” the man said, “sorry.”

I went back to looking in windows after the sudden interruption. There were a few thrift stores and antique shops that caught my attention, but they were closed. The street was bustling with restaurants and bars. I’d slow to look in a window and then move on.

I walked a block up. I was near Chestnut Street when I heard from the shadows, “Can you spare some change?” it was the same man again. He had somehow beat me to the point. 

            “Oh yeah, I remember your face, I’ve already asked you, sorry man.”