Pomme Terre

"Mabuhay, sir, ma'am," he asked courteously "would you like to buy some cupcakes?" He was in a shabby t-shirt, most likely a hand-me-down, unkempt hair and dirty face.

"No thanks," I smiled politely at the boy, at the same time pulled my backpack a little closer to me, and tugging Cliff away.

Cliff wasn't budging. "Hang on, babe."

"What's your name boy?" Cliff asked.

"Roon. I am 13 years old," he answered.

"Oh, how come you are not at school?" Roon diverted his eyes and thus diverted the question.

"How much are these cupcakes?" Cliff tried a different approach. Ah, come one, Cliff. This is Manila, he could be part of a syndicate.

Roon answered "50 peso for 3 pieces, sir. Or you can pay me with 1USD. My mom made them, please buy some, sir."

I had to interrupt them and pulled Cliff aside "Seriously? What are you going to do with those? I am not even confident that you can put that in your mouth and won't get diarrhoea tomorrow."

"Simple. Motivate him, he will try harder to make a clean living. Demotivate him, he might think that stealing at the streets is an easier way to find money. What is your choice?"

"How do you even know if he is legit?"