Last weekend's icy winter walk through Central Park brought me to one of my bladder breaks. (Somehow the cold seems to encourage this biologic phenomenon).
This was adjacent to the Delacorte Theater and the door was uncharacteristically closed when I entered.
Glancing around I caught the side view of a man with a grey pony tail entering one of the stalls.
I could hear the moan of the hand dryer still cranking out hot air and the lavatory was much warmer than the outside.
I could see that he left a shopping cart, metal grilled, next to his stall which was full of his personal items.
It was clear that he was homeless and was warming up inside the bathroom.
No one else was around. He appeared, despite the brief view, to be about my age.
A Vietnam war veteran I guessed. At any rate he didn't see me nor did he ask me for any money.
As I was leaving I pulled a $5 bill from my wallet and laid it across the top of his clothing which filled the cart.
I left.
I did not want to hand this to him.
I am sure he did not want to ask.