I just did something I never, ever do.

Let me explain.

I roll up to Prospect Liquors to grab some beer (it's my turn to buy), and this dude asks me if I can spare a smoke. Of course I can; I smoke hand-rolled; they're not so precious or so expensive as to deny, well, anyone a single. I start rolling him one, and he proclaims that of course he can roll, which is fine by me. We chatted about something random for a minute, and then as I was heading in, he asked if I could spare $2 for some vodka. I said "I'll see what I can do." I headed in, thinking about that exchange.

Now, usually, I'd just say "I can't today man, sorry" and continue on my day. I'm relatively unassuming and sociable to eccentric homeless (and this man was certainly eccentric, to say the least), and occasionally I'll spare some change if I happen to have some in a pocket, but for the most part, I just say hi, maybe a few words back and forth (because they're like, people, and thus deserve at least the recognition of that fact), and I go about my day.

For some reason, something that I can't quite figure out, I even considered it for this guy. He wasn't particularly outstanding in any respect (in relation to some of the real fun homeless I've encountered in this fine city); he was filthy, kinda weird, and totally wasted and/or out of his mind. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what about him gave me a pause at all. Regardless, once I stepped into the liquor store, I knew what I was about to do.

I got him a $2 bottle of vodka.

It was some random cheap-ass shit, the kind I've never tasted, and only knew existed because I've seen plastic half-pints of it littering downtown alleys and drainage grates. I got my beer (half case of Harpoon IPA), went to the counter, and said "I hear that one can procure half a pint of vodka for $2". The clerk, who has seen me many, many times, and in general only sees me buy decent to fantastic beer or Bombay Sapphire, gave pause. "You want to buy $2 vodka?" he asked. "That I do."

And it was done. I went outside, went over to the man, said "here you go, buddy," and handed him the bottle. He was floored. I wonder how long it's been since someone actually did that for him. We chatted for a bit; we talked about where we're from, where we've been, astrology. His name is Sully, he's 53 years old, grew up in Cambridge (his family has been here for like hundreds of years), he's been to every state in the US except for Alaska and Vermont. He's a triple Scorpio. Both his father and his grandfather smoked; his old man died young of lung cancer. He used to do smack. He was really psyched that I was born in Taunton, and that my name was Peter. He's the first person to guess my age right off the bat in I don't know how long (it's his son's age).

At some point in the conversation, he began to shed tears. No sobs, but serious tears nonetheless, just sort of seeping out his eyes, gliding down his face, unnoticed or ignored by him. I don't know what caused them, and I didn't want to bring them to his attention for fear of embarrassing him. He seemed really, really happy that this kid, this random guy, was chatting with him, spent two bucks for him, and was treating him like what he is - a human being, no better or worse than anyone else. Just a guy in a shitty situation, nevermind how he got there or why he's still there. None of that mattered to me. He was a nice guy, that's what was important, and two bucks doesn't mean shit against that, at least in that moment.

I mean, times are super tight for me right now (I've spent waaaay too much money out in the past few weeks on account of the Red Sox, my little sister's 21^st birthday is tomorrow and I'm taking her out, I still haven't paid my phone bill since September, and rent is due next Wednesday), but seriously - two dollars for me is nothing compared to what it is for him. Especially considering the fact that both he and I, with two dollars, would be using it on alcohol. Two bucks would be like, a third of a beer tonight while I watch the world series. Two bucks for him turned into half a pint of vodka, which should make him at least as happy as that beer tonight would have made me. I see it as fair enough.

As I got on my bike and started heading on my way, he said "stay safe"; I bid him the same.