Helpful Hints for Panhandling

Attention all hobos, drifters, tramps, transients and vagabonds! Put down those handkerchief-knapsacks and cans of baked beans. Gather ‘round. I think this will be worth your time.

Have you ever sat back on that park bench and wondered what you could be doing differently? How things could be better? No, I’m not talking about getting a job. I’m talking about pulling yourself up by those Army Surplus boots and becoming the best damn panhandler you can possibly be. Just follow these few simple steps and it can all be yours…

Step one, be older than me. I have a hard time believing this is the first back-up plan of someone in their twenties. So you’re mad at your dad because he wouldn’t let you go to that Insane Clown Posse concert? Try growing a beard. That might convince a passer-by.

Step two is all about appearances. If you’re homeless, dress the part. You don’t need a tinfoil hat or anything, but a quick browse through Value Village should give you some ideas for your outfit. Again, teenagers, leave the skateboards at home. Those things are expensive and they undermine your credibility.

Step three is where we get into the real meat of the issue: building a character. What kind of homeless person are you? The crazy kind? The quiet kind? Disabled veteran? Desperate runaway? Are you just trying to make it through, or are you trying to provide for a family you probably don’t really have? These are the questions you should be asking yourself. Once you think you’re ready, the real test is to take a MySpace survey while in that mindset. Try to find out which Twilight character your hobo is. You might be surprised.

And don’t be afraid of props. Borrow a wheelchair. Crayon up a cardboard sign. I’d recommend learning an instrument. Playing music on the street might bring in some new clientele. Most people don’t give out money to the homeless but are very supportive of “struggling musicians”. (I must’ve given, like, twenty bucks to that old blind lady with the accordion…)

I’d warn against bringing a dog. I know you’d think it could bring in some sympathy or cuteness points, but it mostly just raises questions in strangers. Questions like, “Why does that guy have a dog?” or “Why doesn’t he just eat the dog?”

The last thing to keep in mind is to show some restraint. Nobody likes an overbearing hobo. If you’re dressing homeless, you don’t have to look like Alan Moore. If you have a story about just getting out of the hospital, don’t show off a scar. It helps to put yourself in the shoes of a prospective client. Take a long, hard look in the mirror every morning and ask yourself, “Would I give this poor bastard a dollar?”