Nasty post of the day

I confess:
Today I boarded the subway to go to a freelance gig in midtown. It's 9:30 am and I am groggy cause I didn't have much sleep after watching Redacted. I'm sitting in silence with my fellow subway passengers, in that comfy lull of people deeply into their thoughts or their newspapers, when a stentorian voice shakes us all up and starts giving us all a strident lecture on how we have to give him money to feed his wife and five kids. He explains that he has either been in this city or panhandling since the mid-nineties. He seems healthy and strong and not shabbily dressed, but even if he were a sorry sack of bones, I'd still want him to shut the fuck up. How dare he disturb my hard earned silence? What gives him the right to hold us hostage to his absurd riff?
He was using the wrong strategy. Berating people can't possibly make them open their wallets. Much less at an early hour when everybody is miserable with the prospect of going to work. I didn't see a soul giving him money. But more obnoxious than his delusional speech, was that he broke the silence. That is unforgiveable.