The Greatest Grift

On a recent trip to Boston, I was walking through South Station, a place I have never made it through successfully without being accosted for money. True to form, a man in beat-up clothes fell in step next to me and greeted me, but instead of the usual plaintive approach of the alms-beggar, this man greeted me cheerfully, showing off his front two remaining teeth with a big smile.

“Hey friend, mind if I walk with you a little while?”

I have lived in Atlanta for four years, but I have a soft heart, and I still am terrible at saying no to panhandlers. I weakly muttered something the likes of, “Okay, but I’m walking pretty fast…” and sped up. The man was not deterred.

“My name is Eddie, and I’m a riddler. Now I know you’re in a hurry, but tell me this: If I can tell you where you got dem shoes, what state you were born in, and how many children your father had, would that be worth a dollar?”

For some reason, my mind chose to ignore the fact that he had just asked a riddle, and went: He’ll guess Sperry Topsiders easy. Everyone has these shoes. But there’s no way he’ll guess North Carolina, or four children - those are pretty abnormal. Even if my mind had been astute enough to guess at the answer, I still would have been intrigued. “Yeah,” I said to him, “lets hear it.”

Eddie smiled his pumpkin smile at me.

“You got dem shoes, on your feet.”

“You were born, in a state of infancy.”

“And your father never had any children - because your mother had them all.”

Ladies and gentlemen - the greatest grift. That man must make fifty dollars an hour.