[REVERSE ADVICE COLUMN] I’VE BEFRIENDED A HOMELESS MAN. NOW WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?

Photo Via vivid-i-photography

Recently I’ve contemplated creating some sort of advice column on my blog and/or FIPS. I thoroughly enjoy Time Out New York’s Get Naked: Sex Advice, and Cosmo’s ever knowledgeable and scholarly advice columns featuring questions about spicing it up in the sack (their insightful prose tells us to "try squeezing one of his balls between your thumb and forefinger until they almost touch in the middle"). Honest to God this was an article I read.

But anyway, back to my advice column idea.  Within minutes of this epiphany I realized that A): The only people that read my blog are my mother and a 40 year-old stalker from Buffalo, and B): No one should take my advice on anything, ever. Lastly, C): Park Slopers are a far superior breed of human that has the inexplicable ability to fight over any given topic, regardless of their stance on the situation. Our hood must have had some incredible master(de)baters in high school.

So, yeah...it’s not like anyone would take my shitty advice anyways.

However, I've realized that I have a lot of problems, and sue me: I need answers. No, not like domestic violence or malnutrition problems--more along the lines of how the fuck did I manage to get poison ivy in NYC!? Wow can I walk my dog in the sweltering heat without getting pit stains? And most recently, what do I do when I become BFFs with a homeless dude?

The same homeless guy has been chilling next to Hans Deli on a daily basis since I started working on Broadway and W. Houston over a year ago.  My body is always in constant need of caffeinated fuel, and since I have yet to get my hands on caffeine injections and I’m not a real adult that enjoys coffee,  I often frequent the Deli to ‘Do the Dew.' Chris (Hans Christian Andersen as I fondly like to refer to him) kindly watches my dog as I walk in and buy a beverage for him and myself. When I return, we chat while he plays with my dog, Carlin. Carlin loves him and I imagine it’s due largely to the fact that he is rather rank as well, but I don’t like to speak ill of my friends, so I take that back. Kinda.

Now that we officially know each other’s names and interact day-to-day, what should I do next? Should I offer him more than just a daily caffeine kick?

My instinct, of course, is to try to help him--give him food, clothes and a razor to shave his late Bin Ladenesque beard off. But then when I think about it, I also don’t want to offend him. Like the time I held the door open for a lady in a wheelchair who then freaked the hell out at me, ranting about she could manage on her own. Bitch-on-wheels, please. If you haven’t noticed, some people hold the door for EVERYONE, not just those that have inoperable limbs.  

Anyway.

So what to do? Should I do everything within my means to help this dude out, or just continue our friendly day-to-day interactions? How far do you take your homeless relations?

Signed,

Philanthropically Challenged in NYC