Who
says that the homeless and down-and-outs are a bunch of feckless
no-goods? Far from being a drain on society, those living on the
edge have useful skills learnt from their time on the street and
form a vast untapped labour force – one that is eminently
affordable. In the age of flexible labour and our growth as a service
economy these guys are role models for Christ's sake.
Former
Norwich City footballer John Fashanu has obviously spotted this
potential. This week saw him pull over in King's Cross and offer
a Nigerian tramp cash to stand in a queue for a swanky new apartment,
as quite frankly, he couldn't be arsed to do it himself. He got
the £1.25 million Number One Hans Crescent, Knightsbridge
and the tramp got £300. Everybody happy. Blur guitarist Graham
Coxon is also alleged to have dabbled in this burgeoning service
industry in the bars of Camden Town. According to Popbitch.com:
"he made a tramp take his top off and dance to house music
for twenty quid." Better value than Spearmint Rhino any day.
With
this in mind and £50 in my pocket I set out to see what kind
of value I could get on the streets of London. My ground rules being
that I would not disturb any homeless person just going about their
business and only attempt to hire those who approached me to ask
for money, which seemed fair to me.
Gimme the lolly
I started
in King's Cross and was soon approached by a grubby-looking twenty-something
who asked me for 20 pence. I came up with a yarn about having to
meet someone where I was standing and asked if he would go off and
get me an ice lolly. I handed him a fiver and he returned in less
than five minutes with a deliciously refreshing Fruit Pastille-flavoured
lolly. Honest and efficient. I told him to keep the change.
A Special moment
Approaching
Neal Street I was stopped by a spotty youth with a dog. He asked
me for money for dog food and I suggested he go get me a can of
Special Brew in return for the change from the fiver I handed him.
He looked somewhat confused, but happily made off with my fiver,
never to return. The dog obviously ate like a king that night.
Blind faith
Heading
up Old Compton Street I spied a beggar with a dog working the outside
tables at bars, so I found a seat and waited. When he approached
me and asked for change I made up some guff about being on a blind
date and needing a copy of The Big Issue so that my date could identify
me. Mindful of my lost fiver in the Special Brew deal I was going
to offer him a five to go off and get the mag and a five on his
return. But the highly efficient service provider zipped off without
taking any money and was back in moments with my purchase. Very
polite too. Well worth the fiver I handed over. Management material.
He had my number
I got
to wondering how tramps would fare as emissaries of love, so when
I was spare changed by a fifty-ish one outside the National Portrait
Gallery in Trafalgar Square I thought I'd try. I gave him a fiver
and told him that if he could get me the phone number of an attractive
woman I had spied working in the gallery bookshop then I would give
him another five on his return. I watched him disappear into the
gallery, but sadly he never returned. Whether he found another exit
and simply made off with my fiver or felt too sorry for me to explain
that she didn't want to give out her number, I shall never know.
One-handed backhander
After
being unlucky in love I decided that maybe I was going to have to
settle for some one-handed reading material. So when I was approached
by a dog-wielding spare-changing beard owner in New Oxford Street
I thought I would try my luck at paying to have a porn mag bought
for me. I handed over a fiver and promised him another upon delivery.
It was a novel experience being looked at by a homeless person as
if I was something he had trod in, but he was up to the job, bringing
me back a copy of Razzle Reader's Wives and netting £7.05
profit.
|
