I'm in Bermuda andRick Lazio Isn't It's just before fivea.m. last Tuesday, and an unshaven white geezer ambles, not stumbles, into Morgan'sDeli on Hudson St. in Tribeca, with a crooked grin on his face. Mentioning tono one in particular that it's now dark at this hour in August, he whispersto a customer: "You know, this just hasn't been my day." Thatgot my attention, and the cashier's, and then the fellow said, "I'vegot a brand new halogen lamp here, just 10 bucks. Any takers?" No one bites.It wasn't "brand new," and what the heck would you do with abattered lamp at that hour in the morning? The sales pitch continued, finallysubsided, and then he got down to business. "I'm so damn broke. CanI have a cup of water?" he said to my friend behind the counter.
I wantedto spare the cashier the embarrassment of his having to turn the semi-bum down?it'sa strict policy, even when the store isn't crowded, not to dole out freebies?soI gave the guy a buck and directed him to the bottled water section. Whetherhe pocketed that dollar and scraped up some change to buy a can of Bud,I don't know: I wasn't going to stick around for the final act. "Justhasn't been my day," I said to the concierge Boris when I gotback to my apartment building, telling him the story. We both shook our heads.Even though Boris is Russian, he understood when I said that perhaps this gentwas the product of a dysfunctional family, maybe a mother and grandmother squabblingin his presence when he was four years old. Calling all representatives of theGreen Party: have I got a candidate for you!