The Panhandle

“Is there anyone here that can spare change? A dollar, a nickel, a penny. Anything you have to offer will be considered a blessing!”

The Red Line is the least favored method of transportation. Despite its ability to bring you directly underneath traffic, commuters prefer a different red line: the one that coats Google Maps as far as the fingers can scroll. The route is so forgotten that it once celebrated its 25th birthday for five years in a row—stickers fading but not yet dissolving with each passing month.

Once you’ve entered a subway car you are faced with specific panhandlers at each stop.

While some offer a mixtape with your $5 minimum donation, others plan to smoke the money out of your wallet like bees from the hive. If you’re lucky, you might get one of the ten incense sticks they’re simultaneously burning before they pop into the next car.

However, there is one phrase that is not only prominent at each stop, but repeated word-for-word by several panhandlers throughout time. It is delivered with an exact rhythm, tone, and emphasis on specific words. Its performance is bolder than the man doing a handstand down the aisle.

“Is there anyone here that can spare change? A dollar, a nickel, a penny. Anything you have to offer will be considered a blessing!”

One might believe that this act was rehearsed. But who was paying enough attention to consider the amount of times they’ve heard it? Whether it was headphones, a quick nap, or the skill of pretending that you have no peripheral vision, most did not notice.

When they did notice, the payoff was literal.

David’s acting career had come to a halt. Although he always discussed the way he intentionally left his dreams to teach others to find theirs, the reality was that his separation from sets was forced. (Most of his credits were for background work.) When audience gigs paying “$80 cash same day with one meal included” were no longer enough for the rent, he found himself questioning how to capture the essence of acting.

There are many who go on worldwide journeys to search for their meaning. They meet others who become not-so-strangers and share compelling stories. David got onto the Red Line.

He took a seat next to the doors and as the train moved on its way, the answer appeared. David’s answer wore rolled up denim capris, a parka, and flip-flops. He held out a dented foam cup that made the noise of exactly nine cents. The answer looked briefly at David, then to the others on the car, and asked for the cup to be filled further.

It was then that he realized—what if he could teach his students to act so well that it compelled the bored audience of the subway car to take action? For him, this was the ultimate theatrical challenge.

David posted ads on the premier site for accumulating humans: Craigslist. He was offering a service that he felt no one could compete with. It was an acting gig that required no reels, headshots, or even an outfit purchased in the last decade. It almost guaranteed pay! The rate was negotiable.

By the end of the week, David had more students in his class than he could fit into the room. This was due to the fact that each session was held in the basement of his 1920s apartment complex. It was just off the boiler room that held the building’s washer and dryer, and everyone had to enunciate over the sounds of towels left on perm press.

“Engage with your audience! Incorporate your past! All of your unnecessary oddities will be forgiven!” David knew how to move his students.

They trained one-on-one as well, each developing a backstory. If questioned, one student would say that she needed the cash to begin her séance startup—a new service where individuals could contact the unknown deceased for life advice.

Another student was offering a PDF download for every contribution over $10. The PDF included close-ups of household appliances and images of scattered, faded Polaroids that were marked with verbs. The shock at the end? Well, it was up for interpretation.

Once everyone had their narratives aligned, it was time to perform. They would each choose a specific stop to board. Showtime would begin around 6 p.m. as soon as office hours were ending. Just in time to catch anyone in the city that had actual responsibilities.

On the night before the performance, David caught the subway going into downtown. He decided he should offer a preview before opening night. But just as the subway doors closed, a voice called into the train.

“Is there anyone here that can spare change? A dollar, a nickel, a penny. Anything you have to offer will be considered a blessing!”

After hearing only his students for the last few weeks, David realized that he had forgotten the beauty of the original art. He began to tear up at how the act was delivered.

The man who had just finished speaking looked around to his audience. Before David could offer $1.64, a girl spoke up.

“I have some chocolate cake!” She reached for a department store bag by her feet and the man stared inside.

“You baked a cake inside of a sauce pan?” he asked.

“Well it was supposed to be made inside of a mug… I had a bunch of these instant packets. My dishwasher broke so I didn’t have any clean mugs or bowls. But it’s really good, I just—"

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a blessing. Just curious is all.” He sat down next to her and grabbed the pan by its handle. They shared the contents, using one plastic spork and one half-melted spatula.

David watched in awe, inspired to write his first guide to acting. Years later he would turn it into a screenplay.