Less Than Hero Read Online Free Page B

you full of antipsychotics.
    So sometimes you have to find other ways to make ends meet.

G et a job you lazy bastard!” a middle-aged man says as he drops a dollar into my hat.
    I thank him and wish him a nice day.
    “Shove this up your ass!” A twenty-something guy displays a George Washington around his middle finger before flicking the dollar at me.
    I give him a nod and a smile.
    “You’re lousy in bed.” A thirty-something woman throws a handful of singles in my face. She gets a couple of steps away before she turns around and marches back over to me. “You’re the worst fuck I’ve ever had!”
    I press my hands together in front of me and bow my head.
    I’m sitting on a bench in Central Park near the Naumburg Bandshell, watching the tourists and locals walk past. Summer is in full bloom, delivering warm days and blue skies, which is good for business. Any panhandler worth his alms can make enough from Memorial Day to Labor Day to support himself for the rest of the year.
    None of the other guinea pigs panhandle in order to earn some extra cash. Randy does some part-time gigs as a bouncer tohelp during the lean volunteer months, while Charlie, Vic, and Frank pick up temporary shifts here and there making deliveries, working flea markets, putting up drywall, or taking any other short-term work they can find. But I don’t like driving in Manhattan, I hate flea markets, and my carpentry skills peaked with Lincoln Logs. Besides, why would I want to work for someone else when I can be my own boss?
    On a typical four-hour shift, I earn $10 to $12 an hour, which is better than minimum wage, and I don’t have to pay any taxes or deal with any corporate hierarchy or worry about making an off-color joke and getting sued for sexual harassment. And during the summer and peak tourist seasons, I can take in $15 an hour without even breaking a sweat—$20 an hour if I put a little effort into it. You can’t earn that much slinging mochas or working on a burger assembly line at McDonald’s. True, I don’t get any health benefits or food discounts and I have to deal with getting heckled by teenagers, but I get fresh air and sunshine and the chance to meet new people.
    “I hope you rot in hell, you son of a bitch,” a man says and gives me the change out of his pocket.
    I give him the peace sign and tell him to come back again.
    Other than writing words on a piece of cardboard and picking high-traffic locations, panhandlers don’t need any specific skill to earn a living. You don’t have to know how to juggle or perform magic tricks or play a musical instrument. Those are buskers, performing for tips and gratuities in parks and plazas and transit centers. Sometimes even in restaurants, bars, or cafes.
    Billy Joel was a busker who cut his musical teeth working inpiano bars. Some other famous buskers include Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, George Burns, Steve Martin, and Penn & Teller.
    Most decent panhandlers tend to steer clear of buskers and respect their space, choosing instead to find locations where they can benefit from the crowds without encroaching on the performance. But there are panhandlers who hover around buskers, intercepting customers and taking the potential donations for themselves.
    In the busking community, these are referred to as spongers .
    Other panhandlers run little extortion schemes, harassing marks until the busker pays the panhandler to go away. Some panhandlers also steal donations, instruments, and props.
    These are the ones who give the rest of us a bad name.
    I could earn more money if I learned a skill like juggling or playing the harmonica or making balloon animals, but performing for my tax-free donations would mean having to practice, and I’ve never been a paragon of self-discipline. Plus large crowds give me performance anxiety. And most of the guys I know who make balloon animals are pedophiles in training. So instead I just come up with creative signs that help me to generate some