what more can we do

my doorbell rings.

a middle-aged man in a red checkered shirt that looks like a table cloth, with a brown shopping bag, stands at the door.

"errhhh... hello. i'm selling air freshener. very good...."

"sorry, we don't use these kind of things."

"it's very very good. can use in your house, your car, for your clothes... you see ah... i have stroke."

he lifts up his limp right arm that looks rubbery and lifeless.

i see a train of saliva drip from his lips onto my door mat.

"ok wait ah." i said.

i walked to my room. and i thought to myself. what if this guy is a cheat? can't he get some other job?

and then i decided in an instance, i'll rather be swindled than risk not supporting what could be his only viable and foreseeable means of livelihood.

and so i bought 2 air fresheners for $5 each which i would never use. (i hate air fresheners, esp lemon, and in cars.)

but then it got me thinking. was what i did the best i could do for him?