The Vagrant

It was a long walk from Sixth Street to the stairs of the subway, I was forced to shuffle sideways and squeeze my way through small gaps in the crowd of the busy work district. Steam and harmless gases bellowed up through the steel grating underfoot, as the thundering whistles of trains shook the foundations of the concrete and caused hanging lights to sway back and forth with the beat in a hypnotizing glare.
I don't usually take the subway, but today my routine hadn't gone as planned, thanks mainly to the three douchebags who caused a scene at the coffee shop that's on my street corner, they roughed up a homeless beggar who came in looking for spare change or the chance of a hot cup on the house. Customers slid sideways and made haste in all directions when the dirty and smelly man would near them, his scraggly beard and hair, torn pants, long stained brown trenchcoat and rotten green teeth did little to brighten anyones morning whilst standing in line for caffeine nourishment ahead of work.
' Spare some change? ' he would ask without hesitation as he held his palm out with matted fingerless gloves hugging his cracked skin. Most people just lowered their head and looked away as its easier than turning him down, or having to fight back the plight of a face to face answer while trying to avoid the scourge of his stale, pungent breath. I was near the back of the line, my feet shuffled slowly forward with the herd as the people in front recieved their orders and went about their business through the shops side exit. Infront of me stood the before mentioned trio of men, I use the term 'men' loosely as their topic of conversation and their general demeanor did little to demonstrate the scale of their maturity and/or IQ. Tales of the previous night's sexual conquests and the current condition of their secretaries bra sizes was - in their minds - the news of the day, which of course must be discussed at length and in detail in a place such as this. The Vagrant scuffed his barely-together shoes across the linoleum floor and leant into the small circle in which the men were standing, thrusting his hand to the middle of the sanctum and asking his usual question,
' Spare some change? ' he said.
' Geez do you smell that? ' said one of them as he pinched his own nose lightly and motioned to his buddies in the vagrants direction,
' yeah I do bloody hell old man when's the last time you took a shower? ' said another.
The Vagrant held steady and asked again, the men now turned to face him in an obvious show of testosterone in their view but did little to sway the old mans intent . The next few mins felt like forever as they continued their verbal assault on the man, which eventually lead to him being escorted off the ground by both arms and legs to the door and turfed onto the hard cold concrete outside with a hearty thud and a tumble. The other customers either completly ignored this behaviour or chuckled during and after the event, personally I was part of the first described as confrontation is not one of my strong points, especially against fellow members of the male species of that size and attitude. I kept with the line and after a short while longer gave my order, then retrieved it a minute later before leaving the shop at the exit.
The Vagrant sat upright at the kerbside, rubbing his hip on which he had landed and trying to piece together one of his delapitaded shoes that had fallen off during the scuffle. I felt bad already as to my own actions in the shop so I tried to level out the karma field and feeling of guilt, i figured slipping the guy a $10 note by way of his top jacket pocket was enough for one day which I did quickly before moving right along. He gazed up with head slightly tilted as I walked away, and grinned with the corner of his mouth.

The echoed clicks and clacks on the stairs going down to the subway amplified with every person who joined the trail, different soles of shape and depth made a variance of in-tune noises as people corralled themselves shoulder to shoulder down the busy entrance. I reached the platform and was greeted by an abundance of hawkers and performers who played instruments or displayed a certain talent whilst collecting whatever money they could in a hat or box infront of them, I maintained my current course as I looked above the rows of pedestrians, trying to make out the weathered signs that hung at each platform to signal the train number and its destination. I glanced at my watch with a sharp flick of the wrist and spied that it was now 8:27am, relieved that my steel chariot should be arriving in three minutes time to make the arduous journey to my ball and chain existance in the workplace.