The professor and the tramp

         I park the Mercedes across the street from the campus. That will save me five bucks. The merciless sun assaults the interior. I can almost feel the wood cracking and the leather crumpling. I don’t care. This lovely car, which has been my companion for the last five years, this four-wheel friend that took me to a host of exciting destinations is about to be repossessed.
         I pick up my laptop and books and walk briskly to the pedestrian crossing. I hate the idea of teaching a class on this seductive summer day. I should be windsurfing, or hiking at the Diamond Lake. But I need the money, and I have to be on time for my twelve summer students, who hate the class just as much as I do. At least, they can afford the luxury of being late – I can’t.
         I notice him from the corner of my eye on the other side of the street. He planted himself next to the streetlight. Without looking, I know what he is up to. I try to hurry by, without looking up. Doesn’t work. It never works. Do I have “a sucker” written all over me?
          “Miss, - would you have some spare change?”
         I have to look at him now – it is rude to ignore the person who addresses me.
         He is thin and dirty, with long pepper and salt hair, of indeterminable age – something between thirty and sixty. I can’t help noticing the ugly red sores covering his face.
         He keeps talking: “Bus fare – somebody stole my wallet – no money for dinner.”
          Yes, sure – I doubt he ever owned a wallet.
         But the mention of the dinner triggers the familiar motherly feelings.
         I start fishing in my wallet for a dollar – change the quest for ten dollars when the “dinner” is mentioned – and not finding anything else proffer a twenty.
          “Here, have dinner.”
         His face lights up with a happy smile: “God bless you, girl – you’ve made my day.”
         He sets off, almost running – to the liquor store, I presume.
         What a happy and carefree existence! With my house and cars double – mortgaged and a million dollars in debt, I am so much poorer than he!
         I hurry to the classroom, and diligently wash my hands before going to the class –those sores looked really nasty.