Beware the Ninjas

I went out to the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica for dinner the other night. For those unfamiliar, it's basically an outdoor mall with a bunch of (usually pretty impressive) street performers and (sometimes equally impressive) homeless people. On this particular visit, I was particularly aware of and intrigued by the homeless population. It was obvious that more than a few had serious mental disorders. For example, the guy holding a tape recorder with a large microphone attached. The microphone was covered by a ziplock bag, and he would repeatedly pull it out of his trench-coat pocket, plug and unplug it, and put it back in his pocket. Every fourth or fifth time, he appeared to say no more than a word or two into the microphone before putting it back. He also talked to himself quite a bit without the microphone. Most of the homeless people left me with mixed feelings of sympathy and fright.

My favorite, though, probably didn't have a mental disorder but had the most creative plea for money I've ever seen. He was holding a sign that read, "Entire family killed by ninjas. Need money for karate lessons."