I saw Jimmy again today. He was sat next to St John's Church with a cap on the floor. He wasn't begging because he didn't have his hand out but I gave him a quid in his hand rather than in the cap. I was just delighted that he was still alive. I had seen him once since Tesco (See above Post) I hope he uses the quid to buy food but if he buys booze then so be it. We all need something to numb the pain of being alive don't we? I remember giving an Australian Dollar to an Aboriginal Native in Brisbane with the instruction "Now don't go spending it on alcohol". He took the coin and looked at me in utter disgust the only way tall people can to short people.
A few years ago where Lloyd's Bank is, near the Aneurin Bevan statue, I dropped some change into somebody's pot, once again they weren't begging or asking but it just seemed the right thing to do at the time. It was night and they were obviously sleeping rough, when a voice from across the road near the castle shouted over "You shouldn't have done that". It was a young black bloke. "Why not"? I shouted back. "It will only encourage him". He wasn't begging, he didn't ask me, neither was Jimmy today. I give because I want to, not when somebody asks. I had just said no to a guy who had asked before I saw Jimmy today and had turned away from two Big Issue Sellers. The quid was for the memory. Jimmy blagged a pint for me in the Clive Arms in Canton years ago! He showed me Cardiff's dark corners. I am grateful to him as I am to all those who befriended the 'hick from the sticks' with an undiagnosed mental health condition. To them I was just a 'soft lad' but they helped me.
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