There is a man that exists solely to me outside the deli near my office. I pass his spot anywhere between 10 and 20 times a week, and 90% of the time he greets me with a “Little help?” I’ve never given him money, in my 2 years of passing this deli. Early in my relationship with the man, I’d say “sorry” as if I had no change to give; now I prefer to just stay silent. A few months after I began visiting this deli regularly, I offered him my untouched clam chowder (I thought it was potato soup) and he had recoiled and grabbed his stomach, as if I was giving him poison. Today as I passed him and he offered his greeting, I was attempting to put change into my right pocket with my left hand. I heard a few coins fall out and was immediately stricken with anxiety over what to do next. The secret that I was (silently) lying about not having change was out, so do I leave the money for him to pick up? I decided that was very insulting, so I picked up the dime and penny I saw on the ground and started to walk away with my head down. From behind me, I heard “Thanks!” and now I’m wondering what other coin I dropped; if he thought my leftover coin was intentional; and if he’s just allergic to seafood, but otherwise accepting of food-gifts.