Don't talk to me in Stuff

It was a pretty boring day for me, other than when I went to the city and got some food and sat in the foodcourt and this guy decided to sit right next to me.
Immediately I was thinking like, “Heeeeeere we go” and sure enough he began the sob-story. He was very polite though, like almost overly, beginning with “I don’t mean to offend but…” and I thought he was actually going to offend me lol but then he went on saying that he lived in Chermside and needed to try and get back home to his wife and he had to sleep in a park here in the city last night.
But you know what I did. I sat there, tapping away on my phone, completely and utterly ignoring him. I’d already decided this guy was a bullshitter, like I tend to do with all homeless people who ask me for change. This guy was just clever and had gone to a food court where I was chowing down my chips so I’d obviously just bought something. Yeah, with a card!
So it actually got pretty awkward, both of us sitting there saying absolutely nothing, and I mean for a good 5 minutes. Like I was such a cunt that I barely even acknowledged him. His story could have been true for all I know.
After some time of me tapping away on my phone (I’d actually been texting my mother, trying to organize Christmas) he asked how my day of going, and I answered, “Not so great.”
That was it. Cold answer. To an otherwise very friendly guy.

This is how fucking awkward I am. I even knew I still had that scratchie in my wallet from last week that I could have gone and cashed and given him some of to ‘get home’ but I didn’t. The whole time I was thinking about how he was sitting on the side of my pocket that my wallet was in and if he was going to make a grab for it. I have trust issues, people.

After more sitting there silence, he asked (still politely) if I’d be able to help him and I was just like, “No, sorry mate.”
“Maybe someone around me might be able to help me,” he said.

Oh this guy was good. I wondered how much a week he makes out of doing this. Probably more than me ha!
Anyway, he eventually got up to leave, and my cold-heart decided to jump-start a little and I said to him, “Maybe if you ask the bus driver, sometimes you’ll get a nice one and they’ll let you on.”
“What, just tell them the situation?”
“Yeah, that’s all you can do.”
“You have a great day,” he said as he went off.

I was more relieved that he had left. Of course, as I was walking back home (I’d only left the house to avoid Andrew coming home from work, as usual) it played on my mind how I could have handled that way better and why I was such a bitch to him. Then I remember how NICE he was to me and I sat there, silent, texting away.
I then kept thinking if that guy was telling the truth how he’d get home and what I would do if I were in that situation. I knew immediately. I’d go to a nearby train station that doesn’t have the ticket barriers, sit in the front carriage of the train so that I could look out at platforms to see if there were any ticket inspectors, and get off at the station closest to where I needed to go, and walk from there. If I were desperate, that’s what I would do.
And where was this guy’s supposed wife anyway?
These are the scenarios that play in my head and why I never believe anyone, and actively avoid people, who want my money on the street. I’ve categorized them all into a box.

And here I am, scouring websites and real estates for active listings within my budget, willing to pay double what I am now for a place of my own and I didn’t even give this guy a fiver. Not that I had a fiver on me. I did actually think about what I had on me, but I barely ever carry cash anymore.

Anyway, there’s my boring story for the day. I’m a mess and a cunt to people trying to get home to their wives, so probs don’t talk to me.