fill him up empty

Last night I was driving along North Capitol and I came to a stop at a light and was approached by a panhandler. This was, however, unlike anything I had been solicited with before. He was extremely thin and graying, but full of amazing energy. He B-lined for my car and while walking, with complete purpose, for me, he violently pointed to his wide open mouth and then after doing that for about 10 seconds he then bent over and clutched his stomach in gripping hunger pains. The entire mime was so intense it hit me like a ton of bricks. It scared the shit out of me. It wrenched me open. It made me lock my doors. It made me want to pour gravy and mashed potatoes into his cavernous insides.

Then as soon as he saw that I was not going to open my window, he quickly straightened up and dropped the entire act. He then began it again for the next car, and so on. I watched him go from car to car enacting this brutal dumbshow, with complete commitment one second and in the next breath letting it go.

When I got to the theatre (saw R & G Are Dead) I related the entire story to the group I met up with. One local actress told me that whenever she was approached by panhandlers, she wanted to give them performance notes instead of money. "You should make eye contact and articulate so that we can hear you. Also, to invoke more sympathy, it might help to move the pause until later in the sentence." She is right. This man I encountered should have followed through. His performance was gripping, albeit scary, but when he dropped the mask so easily...well it was all lost.

I don't mean to sound trite by deconstructing a person's fight for survival like it's a new guerilla theatre (even though that is what this unintentionally was). In fact, what I thought about during the rest of my drive was how insulated I was from him. In my air conditioned silver box, with my iPod blaring Bright Eyes, locking myself in and rolling away without recognizing him. I fully felt the inhumanity of not acknowleding his distraught entreaty. I feel ashamed.

If I see him again, I will pay him for his efforts.

I may also point him toward the League auditions and acting classes.