There But for the Grace of God........

Anyone happening upon the city of Pensacola, Florida for the first time will discover many things. First, an inordinate amount of garbage, detritus, and litter lining many roadways (future blog-post, for sure). Second, what many possibilities there are for a true destination-type city: beautiful bays and vistas, historical architecture that has stood the test of time (and hurricanes), and amazingly friendly, truly hospitable people. Third, with many miles of city streets navigated, a preponderance of pan-handlers.

Now, when I lived in South Florida, there were many pan-handlers, true. The intersection of Biscayne Blvd. and 163rd, close to where I worked, had one on duty from dusk till dawn. The difference was, down there, they were selling a little newspaper (the name escapes me), or flowers, or sunglasses, or something. Up here in the "panhandle", they sit on the corner with a little cardboard sign, cigarette dangling from their lips, with phrases to cough up sympathy. Except for a few who have no pride anymore. One sign the other day said, "Why lie, I just want a beer!". And people were giving him money!

I understand that this area of Florida is having a rough time. Hell, all of Florida is experiencing what may be a recession, or what some pundits may say is a "hiccup" right now. Insurance has gone through the roof (even with Insurance companies reaping huge "Exxon/Mobil" type profits), cost of living is ever rising while salaries are stagnant, and companies are still going the ex-pat route to foreign lands.

I talk to many, many restaurateurs and managers on a daily basis, and the consensus is that they can not get enough people. Anyone in the business (and that's probably all of you reading this), knows that there are never enough dishwashers or bussers applying to keep up with business. From past experience, I could never have enough dishwashers, especially. As for bussers, that was usually me during lunch, or the whiny, spoiled waiters (I know I'll get some comments on this!). And I can guarantee there are no dishwashers I've been associated with who make minimum wage. I would say dishwashers make more than check-out people at Wal-mart, or the customer service person at Borders.

I could never figure myself as one who would rather prostate myself before strangers for the money to buy a hamburger. Or a place to lay my head at night. Or whatever. That's the way I was raised. I've been working legally since I was 14. I did other things before the legal age for spending money. When I left the Air Force after five years, I accepted unemployment for 7 weeks before taking a job for less money, just because I was too proud to keep taking from the government dole.

I guess that I was raised different from those poor guys sitting beside the road with their little signs, smoking their generic cigarettes, buying the pints of cheap vodka, never looking you in the eyes as you avoided theirs. Or maybe I've never been in their shoes. I had family who told me how smart I was. How I was destined for great things. How proud they were of my accomplishments.

Could I really judge these guys by my standards? If it was me sitting there with the little cardboard sign, that would truly be a shame. True, my life was not the easiest by a LONG SHOT, but I don't know their history. I may resent them being there, bringing down the area, making me feel guilty, but I now don't feel the anger I once did. If only we could make them productive, contributing something besides blight, increasing their self-esteem.

I have no answers, that's for the professionals. But I know many restaurants that could use these guys in the dish-tank every night.