The strange old man

Chapter - 2

"Why should I?" Rick raised his eyebrow.

"Come on, please!" Emily said, her eyes all misty, looking at Rick with that begging gaze. Her heart was breaking. The guy she liked just wouldn't pay attention to her, no matter what she did. "I don't want to be alone, or else I'll keep thinking about him."

"Ugh, you're such a pain," Rick said. Rick wanted to curse, but he held himself back, 'This is the last time, no matter what,' Rick thought to himself, shaking his head. No matter what, his brain just could not win over his heart.

"How much do you want?" Rick finally caved in.

"Really? You mean it?" Emily asked cautiously.

"Just go," Rick pushed Emily away gently. He just didn't want to look at Emily's face for now, "I'll bring whatever I want to your place," he said, heading off. Rick wanted some air to clear his thoughts.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Ugh, now I'll have to get drunk with that drunkard," Rick regretted his decision the moment he turned towards the store. He knew how much Emily loved to drink. He felt a shiver down his spine just thinking about it. The night was already ruined, and the morning was going to be a total disaster.

"Hey, can you spare some change for booze?" Rick saw an old homeless man sitting across the street.

The man looked worn out and beat up, with clothes that had seen better days. As people passed by, he mustered up the courage to ask for help.

"Hey folks, got any spare change for a drink?" he called out, his voice raspy and desperate.

But most people just shook their heads or ignored him, walking on without a care. Some even scolded him for asking for money for booze.

"Get a job, you lazy bum!" one person snapped, giving the man a dirty look.

"Yeah, stop wasting your cash on booze!" another yelled, not even glancing his way.

Rick checked out the homeless dude, and man, he couldn't shake off the feeling that they were kinda in the same boat. The old man had no place to crash, while Rick's love life was going absolutely nowhere. And now, he had to deal with drinking with Emily and listening to her rant about that jerk, Roy.

'Why does the god have to make these rich guys handsome as well?' Rick couldn't wrap his head around this partiality.

"Ugh..." Rick sighed, blaming Emily for all these extra sighs.

Leaving the homeless man behind, he entered the department store. He knew Emily's booze cravings were real, and even his stash at home had run dry. So, without wasting a moment, he grabbed a whole carton of beer and paid for it.

'Oh, right, I gotta call Gloria and bail on work today,' Rick reminded himself as he walked out of the store, beers in hand, 'I will do that once I reach home.'

"Hey, what's your name?" Rick asked softly, crouching down to meet the old man's eyes.

The old man looked up, squinting to get a better look at Rick, "Why do you care? You gonna scold me too, like those miserly bastards?"

Rick grinned, hearing the old man's response, "Nah, man! Why would I? You just want some beer, right? What's the harm in that?"

"That's right. What's the big deal about it?" the old man's eyes lit up at Rick's words. He then eyed the carton of beer and swallowed hard, "You get all this for me?"

"Not the whole thing, man. But yeah, you can have a couple of cans," Rick said, grabbing two cans from the carton. "Here you go, enjoy!"

As they chatted, some people passing by started paying attention to their conversation. Some gave judgmental looks, while others just walked away, shaking their heads like they were seeing a train-wreck – a jobless dude taking tips from a homeless guy.

But you know there's always that one nosy person. This lady, probably in her 50s, marched right up to them, her face all stern and annoyed. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" she snapped, oozing disdain.

Rick turned to her, kinda surprised by her hostility. "Nothing much, just sharing some beer with this old dude," he replied coolly, "Life's tough, you know, and I'm just trying to make his day a little better."

The woman scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Cheer him? This is not helping! Giving him alcohol only enables his destructive behaviour. He's a homeless drunk, for crying out loud! You think he'll just sip it and go on his merry way? NO... He'll become a pain in the butt for everyone else."

Rick frowned, "Come on, cut him some slack. Maybe the dude's going through some rough stuff."

Eye-rolling, the woman didn't even glance at the old man as she went on with her rant, "He's just a burden on society, plain and simple. If folks like him pulled themselves together and stopped asking for handouts, maybe he'd be worth something."

Rick shook his head, "Well, you don't know his story, so maybe back off a bit?"

The woman scoffed, "Oh please, spare me the sob story. There's no excuse for being a bum."

"Listen," Rick tried to calm the lady, "We don't know his circumstances or what he's been through. We all face challenges in life. It's just that he is going through some hard times. Let him enjoy his beer in peace."

The woman huffed, unimpressed by Rick's response. "Don't give me that nonsense..."

But this time, the Old man chimed in before the lady could complete, "Listen, darlin', this young man bought me this beer with his money. So unless you want to buy me more or pay this young man for these beers, shut your mouth and take a hike. I don't want to hear a lecture from a stingy old hag like you."

"You..."

"Fuck off..."

"You will regret it," the lady threatened the old man and glaring at Rick, she turned away from Rick and the old man, muttering under her breath as she walked off.

"Bitch!" The old man cursed as well, "Well, I won't take your beer for free." The homeless man turned his attention back towards Rick.

He then pulled out an old, rusty metal stick and gave it to Rick.

"What is this?" Rick looked confused.

"Just an old cane,"

"Oh, thanks," Rick said, trying not to laugh. "But really, I don't need this old thing. You should keep it."

The old man chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nah, take it. Consider it a token of my appreciation for the beer. Besides, you never know when you might need a good ol' stick."

"Why would I need a stick?" Rick laughed it off.

"You know," The old man with a perverted gaze looked at Rick and smacked his bum, "To stick it up your ass."

". . ."

* * * * *

Here are the choices for the readers. Whichever gets more comments is what we will do in the next chapter:

1. Fuck up the old man.

2. Ignore the poor guy. He is not mentally stable.