Last time I went busking, this guy came up to me and said: “I’ve just won several hundred pounds on a scratch card, but you can have this.” And gave me a ten pound note. First off I want to explain to you how much he didn’t look like he had just won money on a scratch card. It’s not that he looked sad, just not particularly happy either. He had that sort of general unkempt look about him that made me wonder if he was in fact homeless.
“Ah thanks! That’s really kind of you!”
“And if the police come up to you later saying you shouldn’t have it, just tell them to go away – none of their business!”
…
“…O…K,”
Like, what!?
Had he just stolen that money from a bank? A shop? Was it from illegal produce? Drugs? What on earth did he mean by that? And where on earth did the money in my hand come from?
What if the police really had come asking about the money I’d earned? It’s not like that sort of thing had ever happened before but I suppose it was possible a police officer could approach me asking if I’d seen anyone acting suspiciously. And I would have to tell them wouldn’t I, even if it meant they needed to take back that tenner for evidence or whatever.
No one came up to me. My unusually high profit remained intact, and as I headed off to my bus stop I was beginning to think about things I could spend it on, until I saw a police woman talking to someone sat outside a shop. It’s not that I could actually hear what they were saying, but I had this awful feeling it was about the strange man I had talked to earlier and his mysterious misdeeds. ‘Maybe I should go up and tell her what happened,’ I thought, but I could just picture the situation where even if she had no idea who the guy was or anything about his possible crimes she’d end up taking the money off me.
So I started to walk past her thinking if that did happen I’d walk away ten pounds worse off regretting it, when my feet ground to a halt. Actually no I wouldn’t – I’d walk away ten pounds worse off but knowing that even if it hadn’t made any difference I’d done the right thing, and as it was I would regret never finding out where this money had come from. So I doubled back.
I know it was only ten quid but this made me think about my morality. I’d never really thought about it much before until a friend had fairly randomly remarked “You’re really a moral person.” My friends often seem confused if I pick up some rubbish that they were going to leave behind, or return accidental extra change to the counter in a café. I remember one time sitting in the back of the bus with some friends on the way to college and there being this young mother with a toddler sat right in the middle of us. Now my mates are nice people but I suppose it could be argued that they were somewhat scary looking. Completely black outfits and guyliner was fairly normal. So whilst this toddler was sat there happily playing with his sock and the back row was filling up around him, his mother next to him started to look more and more intimidated. Not that we were doing anything wrong, teenagers can just be scary looking, I get that. Anyway as this woman picked up her son to leave and walked down the bus, his sock fell right off his foot. So naturally I picked it up and chased after her. “Your son dropped this.” I smiled, and she thanked me with what appeared to be pleasant surprise. I don’t know if she really had been thinking we were aggressive delinquents who would probably eat her child given the chance, but either way I quite like to surprise people by showing them how actually moral youths can be.
When this friend randomly remarked about how moral I was, I was somewhat confused – does that mean that other people aren’t moral? Are people unconcerned with what is right and what is wrong? That’s the thing though my friend remarked “You’re really moral,” not “you’re really nice.” It kinda makes me think people don’t particularly value morality as a good trait in a person. As if you can be kind to your friends but not care much about strangers and that’s alright, that’s normal.
Around this time you’re probably getting bored with me going on about my superior morals but the thing is I never really considered myself an especially moral person. And to be honest I’m not sure I actually am. To be honest I think I return extra change because there’s a slight OCD twinge in me that is annoyed by the incorrect transaction. I think I pick up rubbish because I always have, and the thought of just leaving it lying around makes me cringe, not because it ruins the environment or whatever but because there are bins around and that’s what bins are for. I think I gave that toddler back his sock, not out of kindness, but because socks belong on feet, and whilst he was missing one his limbs looked terribly unsymmetrical. I think I went up and talked to that police woman because the thought of not knowing where that money had come from annoyed me more than the idea of not having it.
So in the same way my friend can’t bare to have one pencil pointing the opposite way to all the others on her desk, I just can’t stand it to have even a tiny passive part in the insignificant injustices of life. I feel somewhat enlightened, if slightly disappointed in myself.
Anyway when I told this police woman my story, what she said was: “He probably just thought that we would think you shouldn’t be getting money off people in general, like you were begging or something, which obviously you’re not.” Oh, yeah I guess that makes sense. So it turns out I had that little epiphany all for nothing and I ended spending that ten pounds on concert tickets. Never mind.
The Elephant in the Room 