I frequently use this blog to highlight the differences between Ft. Worth and Dallas.

Dallas, for example, has a more impressive skyline. Ft. Worth, meanwhile, has a more impressive record of getting people to actually go into its buildings and do things.

Dallas is also better than Ft. Worth at two other things I’d like to discuss here: panhandling and mass transit.

I was recently driving home from work when I decided to stop for a Mountain Dew. I used to hide my fondness for Mountain Dew. Now that I’m in my 30s, it seems oddly immature.

But then I was at a press conference with one of the world’s leading scientists in DNA research. Just as we were starting, he said, “Wait, wait, let me put my Mountain Dew on the ground so it doesn’t show up on camera.” If it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.

I walked into the 7-Eleven at Hemphill and Allen. Outside, a woman approached me and asked for a ride to Hurley Street.

“Sorry,” I responded as I walked by. “I can’t–wait a minute. Hurley’s only, like, ten blocks from here. That seems like a strange favor to ask.”

I began to think she wasn’t being completely honest with me.

“Yeah, but it looks like you’re headed that way,” she continued.

“You could easily walk that far in the time it’d take to flag someone down,” I explained. “Or you could head up a block to Magnolia and catch the bus. I think there’s even a bike sharing station right there.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” she asked.

“Sorry, can’t do it.”

She threw up her hands and wandered off. Frankly, I was frustrated, too. Ft. Worth is never going to ditch its reputation as a highway-laden wasteland if we don’t embrace public transportation.

Just a few days later, I was fueling up the news car at the QuikTrip a few blocks north, at Hemphill and Rosedale. A gentleman wandered up to me and explained that he was out of gas, didn’t have any cash and was wondering if I could help out.

I explained that I wasn’t carrying any cash.

“Well, could you give me a ride back to my apartment?” he asked. “It’s only a few blocks, and I’ve got cash there.”

When I declined, he suggested I pull some money out of the ATM because he would pay me back as soon as he could drive home and get his wallet. Now, loyal Scaiaholics know I’m more than willing to engage in lively conversations with panhandlers, but I thought it was appropriate to have a more frank discussion with this man, whom I also suspected of withholding information about his predicament. Plus, it reminded me of the woman from 7-Eleven and I was still angry about that.

“You just said you only live a few blocks away,” I replied. “I mean, you’re all the way over here at pump 14. You spent all this time going down the row when you could have just walked home.”

He moved on to pump 15 without a response. And I could feel the funding for TexRail slipping away. Why would the Federal Transit Administration support a light rail system if no one’s willing to walk a few blocks once they get off?!

Meanwhile, Dallas enjoys the longest light rail system in the country and panhandlers with much richer back stories.

In one case, I had set up my laptop on the trunk of the news car to file a story. I was working in downtown Dallas and a guy confidently walked up to me and put his arm around my shoulder.

“Thank God I finally found someone,” he said [In his defense, it was downtown Dallas, so there was no one else around]. “I need a hand. I’m a psychiatrist. I’m late for an appointment, and the Benz just stalled out on me. Can you give me a couple bucks for bus fare?”

The bus! See how they think over there?!

He even gave me a business card and he asked for one of mine, declaring that he’d be happy to have a free session if I helped him out.

I know a lot of people say panhandlers should find a job instead of bothering the rest of us, but I gave that guy a couple bucks and a business card that he probably handed off to the next rube when he posed as a reporter who was late to a story. If you don’t think that guy’s working, think about how much time he spent developing and committing to that back story. If someone asks him a question, he needs to have a convincing answer at the ready.

“Where’s your office?” I asked.

“Irving,” he said.

I’m sure there are people in Irving who could benefit from therapy, and I’d be pretty upset if my Benz stalled, too. Unlike the woman at 7-Eleven and the guy at QuikTrip, this story checked out.