A Refreshing Twist on Panhandling

We ordered more pizza than we could eat last night. We boxed up the last two slices, not because we thought cold pizza would make a delicious breakfast on Monday, but because the pizza was so good, we couldn't bring ourselves to just leave it on the table to go to waste. Leaving Gino's East, we got approached by a panhandler who I most certainly expected to ask us for money. Instead, as if he had read my mind ten minutes earlier, he politely asked if he could have our leftover pizza. I handed it over without a word, stunned silent by the fact that a hungry man was asking me for food, rather than the more usual fact that an addict was asking me for drug or liquor money by claiming he needed cash for food. He accepted my box of pizza and extended his hand to thank me. I shook his hand and said "You're welcome. Enjoy it." And he walked away. It was a perfect exchange. I really didn't want that pizza; I just didn't want it to go to waste. It was almost as if he was helping me as much as I was helping him, and it probably made me happier than it made him. I hope he enjoyed it. It was some seriously good pizza.