Actually this happened to the Puntmeister many many years ago. For some stupid reason, I made bad coffee and burnt scrambled eggs in a kitchenette I didn't know using implements ill-suited to the purpose, and I rather botched the whole 'Hugh Grant' Mr. sensitive moment. It was nuts, but I fed her and got her on the path toward sobriety althought that state would have to come much later. Chatted a bit. Held her warmly as she apologized and wept. Got her cozy on the couch with a ratty old blanket, and when I felt she would be safe enough to leave, I left. Nope, didn't donate cash--not because of dissappointment for services not rendered, but because I didn't want to be an enabler. I enjoy an adult beverage now and again. OK, maybe more like again and again. Maybe I saw something of my own frailty in the weakness of this person, but in the end, Punt concluded the human condition we share is worth some ember of compassion. Maybe I was a dipshit for staying at all, and maybe it was one of the most selfless things I did to try and show a little care for someone in the dumps. I still don't know, but am glad for myself that I did it at the time. I have no idea what became of her, nor do I care to repeat. Tears.
Punt.