• Join The Fed
• Advertise with The Fed

• About Us
• Contact

In This Issue

• The New Spec Editorial Page
• A Sojourn to M’Ville
• Fear and Loathing with Jim Henson
• I Can Be Homeless Too, Mommy
• Letters to the Feditor
• She Says, “To-MAH-to,” He Says, “Bll-RR-gh.”
• The Hobo Lottery
• Fractal Tetris
• News on the Party Front(al Nudity)
• Everything is Love and Theft
• Loving the Mailer-Daemon
• Community Time
• “They” Continue to Keep Natural Cures From You
• Fed Bash - NOT! LOLOLomg
• Plagiarismo in Two Lines with Things Like That
• Senator Kennedy Surprises Attendants of "Ted Bash"
• A Letter from Our Sudoku Editor
• Hinden-Fed
• South-by-Southwest Tour Diary
• THEY Watch
• Staff of 21.7

One time at Penn Station, I was waiting for a train when I was approached by a homeless man. He couldn’t have had better timing, as he caught me with change in my hand from a tepid burger I had purchased moments earlier. You know hobos: they tend to ramble incoherently or scream at pigeons to grab attention and score some cash. But this one was different. Despite the dirty hair and lack of teeth, this charming and well-spoken gentleman made me an offer I couldn’t turn down.

   “May I have your change? I’ll pay it back to you when I win the lottery!” he quipped with joy. As he stretched his open hand toward me, I couldn’t help but feel impressed by his poise and originality. How could I say no? I gladly gave him my change, knowing that at least he would invest in something other than crack and inspire others like him in the process. What could be a better way for a homeless man to spend his hard-earned coins than participating in a mass game of slim chances along with thousands of other people? A hobo who wants to be part of society again. Now that’s something you don’t see everyday. As I squeezed my way onto a packed 1 train, I felt a little hope for humanity. Such an admirable person was truly a magnificent discovery.

    One week later I was walking down Broadway near Morton Williams, when the unthinkable happened. Forget the time when the Virgin Mary turned up on a cheese sandwich and was subsequently sold on eBay. This was an even more remarkable miracle. The same man, with the same toothless smile and scaly palm stretched his arm out to me on the corner. He was even wearing the same clothes! Serendipity, I thought. It was clear that he had somehow found me and intended to repay his debt! As I turned to him, I felt the soothing caress of karma fill me with vindication…until I heard him speak. “May I have your change? I’ll pay it back to you when I win the lottery!”

    Disappointment suddenly filled my heart. My raggedy friend had gone from an exemplary social activist to a scam artist. More insulting was the fact that he had failed to recognize his generous benefactor. “Why, oh why?” I shouted to the heavens. Greed had corrupted his purpose. Not only had he not won the lottery, but he expected me to feed his obscene gambling addiction. I felt hurt and appalled by his exorbitant demands. What was next? Food? Clothing? Dental insurance? Such an absence of consideration was unacceptable. His lack of shame made me lament all existence, and in a fit of rage I walked away, cursing the moment I placed my nickels in his gluttonous claws. I have to say I was maliciously swindled. He’s probably guilty of tax evasion as well.

    But I had only myself to blame, for destiny had taught me an ironic lesson. There was not enough luck in the world to help this man win the lottery, but somehow there was enough to make me beat the odds of running into the same hobo at two different locations in New York City. And regrettably, I learned that no matter how you put it, the house always wins…even if it’s covered by cardboard and old newspapers.