The Man with the Twisted Lip

Actually, I noticed it early on, but hadn't really thought about it until now. This part of the world must have the most sophisticated beggars and bums on the planet. I have always had a strange compulsion with this part of the lunatic fringe and I really think this area is special.

Some points of reference: A few weeks back I was standing outside of McDonalds (the same one that saved my starving self at midnight my first night in Geneva ... a story for another time) in the city center and a rather dishelved looking character approached me asking for change. He tried first in French and when I waved him off feigning incomprehension, he tried in German, then Italian, and then finally finally getting through to me in English. This guy could speak (or at least ask for change) in at least 4 languages! Is such polyglotism just a requirement for the job in an international hub like Geneva or was this a banker moonlighting in rugged economic times?

Last week, hoping I could do it cheaper than in Switzerland, I rode my bike over to Annemasse in France to mail a package to the US. Outside 'La Poste' there was an older, but equally dishelved looking fellow asking for change. I think it was slim pickings over there in Annemasse as he had only a few sad little coins in his dirty cup. But funny enough, tucked under the cup was a a floppy old dog-eared copy of Sartre's L'Etre et le Néant. Bizzare! Asking him about it in my pidgin French, he began to regale me with what was, the best I could understand, his philosophy of life on the street and how he felt it afforded him the time to think. We talked for a little while. "Vous etes tres zen", I told him (Q: Does one use the formal 'vous' form for bums and beggars?... I dunno... but probably should if we just met ... I stumbled and then decided to go for it... even if my french is getting better, i struggle with kinda stuff... lord knows I wouldn't want to OFFEND anyone) and he laughed and pounded me with filthy hands on the shoulder. I wished him well as I nervously brushed my jacket clean and mounted to ride home.

I wonder how Joe Jonah Euclid is doing?

Happy Mother's Day Mom.