Invest Well.

My professor told me a classical research paper was a case study.
"This is a compendium. The intro is great. The conclusion is great. You might want to fix the middle, though."

So I'll give some case studies.

I was walking onto the subway today to get to work. I usually walk, but I planned my day ahead of the time and I planned to struggle to eat a chicken gyro on the street while carrying my folders in my hands and check my email ten times (Just in case!).
I planned these things ahead of time. You can't go back on plans, you know?

I stumbled down the stairs and there was a woman at the bottom of the first step, waiting for eye contact to capitalize.

(When I was researching the independence movement of Oregon, Washington, and California ((Cascadia)), I came across a story by the founder of a thinktank in Seattle called the Sightline Institute. He bought a bunch of oranges, too many, at Pike Place and handed them out to the homeless he passed. There was no dilemma about the ethical, Christian ((He is a minister)) need to help by giving change. Problem solved. No more homelessness. I have since made this my mantra.)

So I glide awkwardly down the stairs and make eye contact. She was asking for change.
Before she pleads, I put my finger to her lips. No, Say no more. I was prepared with a trusty piece of fruit.
I hand her a banana and she looks at it. What is this queer piece of yellow?

"I want change. I'm trying to get out of the city. My apartment, it's really..."

What? You don't want my fruit? How can you not want my fruit? You people LOVE my fruit........
Shit. I did it. I made them the other. I've tried not to do that. Suddenly, it's a You People situation. I can't look her in the eye, now.

But I do, anyway. "I'm sorry, I only have fruit to give."

And then, after work, I met another man. He did the walk-and-talk move. It's amateur, but if you do it well, you get what you want. He even put his hand on my arm.
"Hey, you seem like a nice guy, can you spare me some change?"

He didn't know about my fruit policy, obviously.

I stopped and looked him square in the eye. "I'm sorry. I can't give."
I mean, I have the ability, but I'm on a street corner where you could run and steal my things. It's not a race issue. It's not a class issue. I shouldn't give you money. I don't put too much importance on frugality but theft would greatly inconvenience me.

"Not even a dollar?"

"Look, man, I am sorry, but I can't give today. Have a good day."