$10 for a hobo? Too much!

I always think of myself as a generous person. That's why when I was walking around Chicago downtown last week, I stopped to reach my wallet when I saw an elderly woman who was carrying a damp cardboard box on which was messily written with a thick marker: "I HAVE 3 KIDS AND NO JOB. PLEASE HELP, HAVE TO PAY FOR FOOD AND DIAPERS. I PRAY FOR YOUR HEALTH AND SUCCESS. THANK YOU." Behind the elderly woman were 3 kids, the oldest being what seemed to be less than 10 year old. The youngest -- who was no older than 2 year old -- kept crying and crying (which reminded me why I hate kids so much).

But yeah. I was walking with my friends as they were going shopping from stores to stores in Chicago downtown. They kept walking as I stopped to reach my wallet. I looked down and saw two $10s. No $5. No $1. Only $10s. And $10 seemed a bit too much to give to a hobo. I glanced back at her and her eyes were now barely visible from under her veil. Our eyes met, or I think they did since she seemed to be looking at something past me. I waited for her to say something to me. I waited for her to say something. I waited. 

Nothing.

She just kept staring at me. And after what seemed to be like an hour of two actors looking at each other in a low-budget Indian movie, she turned her head and looked toward a general crowd, once again. I turned around and saw my friends were getting farther from me. I folded my wallet, slipped it back in my back pocket and made small quick leaps back toward my friends.

For the rest of the day, I wondered whether someone gave her anything that. I wondered what it would feel like if I ended up giving her the $10. Would she be thanking me? Would she be able to feed and buy some diapers for her kids? Would her youngest kid stop crying even for a few minutes? Would her oldest daughter be a bit less thin although just for a pound?

I felt guilty although I knew I didn't do anything wrong. I kept telling myself I already spent $60 for a new pair of shoes, so I would feel bad if I spend more money. But let's face it. Even if I didn't buy the shoes, I would probably still not give her the $10. I wonder why $10 is a lot of money to give to a stranger, yet so little when we use it to shop.

Dear old lady, if you by whatever means are reading this, please know that I feel bad. Please know that if I meet you again when I walk around Chicago downtown, I would definitely reach down to my wallet and give you $20. Let's just hope I won't only be bringing $100 at that time.

Being in a wrong relationship is like having a 10.5 feet size and settling down with a 10 shoe size

Nope. Those are definitely not my feet. And not my shoes either. 

You see, I've just bought a pair of shoes. A pair of nice shoes. Granted, they're not like *insert an expensive shoes brand name here*, but for me who had been going everywhere wearing flip-flops, they were nice enough.

I don't think there is any other word to describe the shoes but simple. Although they were simple, they were really awesome. In fact, when I went into an elevator, one of the people inside kept staring at my shoes during my whole ride from 1st floor to 8th floor. Either my shoes were too nice, or my face was too ugly that he didn't want to look at it. Talk about awkward..

Anyway.

So I bought a pair of new shoes. And being a bragger that I am, I immediately wore them to school. The first five minutes I spent walking was okay. I felt like there was a small red ant biting my back ankle. Meh, no big deal. So I walked and kept walking.

Ten minutes and it felt like the ant brought shitloads of his friends. My back ankle hurt (more like burn) everytime I took a step. It hurt, but I handled it like a man. And what kind of man would walk with no shoes? None. So I kept walking.

Fifteen minutes later, I can't bear the pain anymore. So I sat down on a bench and removed my shoes. And there it was.

And no. That's definitely not pus. It's my skin peeling off.

On both of my feet. Turns out my shoes were too small and the back part of my shoes kept grazing my back ankles everytime I took a step. Fuck handling it like a man, I removed my shoes, carried them in my hand and walked. People kept throwing looks at me. What? You guys never saw a guy walking with no shoes on? Ugh..

When I told my friends about this, they were all like: "why didn't you try the shoes first?" and "if they were too small, why did you still buy them?" to which I replied "I tried them, it felt so right at that time," and "because there was no other shoes that would fit."

Isn't picking shoes a lot like relationship? We got into a relationship because it felt SO right at that time. We gave it little thought. Deep down inside, we probably realized that the shoes were too small -- too small for our feet. It was naturally impossible for our feet to shrink, and slightly less impossible for our shoes to grow -- but we bought them anyway (or at least I did).

How many times have you bought a pair of nice shoes that were too small? I at least did it several times. They were nice looking for sure. But they were anything but comfortable. I bought them simply to show my friends that I could be fashionable too (because they kept insulting me about what I wore).

How many times have you been in a relationship? Twice? Three times? Ten times? None? (Like Jupri, haha).

If you've been in a relationship more than once, obviously you know how it feels to be in the wrong relationship. And believe it or not, in a wrong relationship, someone is gonna get hurt (heck, even in the right relationship, someone is gonna get hurt). It all just comes down to whom. Either you or your partner.

Being in a wrong relationship is like having a 10.5 feet size and settling down with a 10 shoe size. It fits somehow, but it hurts. It hurts everytime you take a step, and since you already bought them, you feel bad if you don't wear them. Sure maybe you won't mind wearing them every now and then in a short walk, but you definitely don't want to wear them in the long run. You will throw them away and get a new and nice pair of comfy shoes.

So the next time you're getting into a relationship, ask yourself the same question you would ask when you're buying new shoes: Will this be comfortable in the long run? Am I buying this because there isn't any other that would fit? Am I buying this because my friends are telling me to?