“What do you want?”

“Would you be so kind and spare a couple of dollars so my poor children can eat?”

“What kind of fool do you think I am?”

“Pardon?”

“I know your type. You hang around this street corner all day, begging for money so you can buy tickets to see Red Hot Chili Peppers and Suzanne Vega.”

“Oh, no. That’s not the case at all. I’ve got seven starving children at home.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No, really. Plus an old aunt that hasn’t eaten in days.”

“Uh, uh. You can’t fool me. Poison and Chicago are coming to town, and if I gave you any money, you’d run down to Ticketmaster faster than Janet Reno can snatch a kid.”

“But, sir, I also have a wife who hasn’t eaten since a week ago last Monday. Please sir, if not a couple of bucks, maybe some spare change. A quarter, perhaps. Or even a few pennies.”

“What’s the matter? Tired of sitting in the cheap seats? Need a few bucks to upgrade to floor seats for Wynonna? Why don’t you get a job like the rest of us?”

“Please, sir. My poor father and mother also depend on me for food. I’ve also got 25 relatives to feed. We all live in a shack made out of Mojo Nixon ticket stubs. No one has eaten in weeks. I beg of you, just a couple of dollars.”

“The only way I’ll give you any money is if you can convince me that you won’t spend it on tickets for shows like Fourplay and Creedence Clearwater Revisited.”

“I wouldn’t think of spending the money on tickets. Besides…”

“Besides, what?”

“I already bought the tickets, it’s the food I need.”