Being Moved By the Breeze

A manger for a fast-food chain sees a man with a cardboard sign inscribed "anny bit wil help". The manager sees this, pulls his brake, and spits at the man, "Get you a job you filthy piece of shit!" The man in a quandary of the managers words become lost somewhere between "you" and "job". The two words coexisting within the same context or rather even the same sentence structure is somehow garbled, mutilated in translation.

Much time will pass. He will look down at his dirty, disgusting, hideous way of life he so barely clings to, and have idea that will come haunting so to mind. He takes his coat wraps it nice and tight, finds the closest tree and makes a poorly made noose. Looks at his sign and flips it over with a tear, and writes frivolously upon it. Then climbs oh so high to the tree top. And is soon left suspended from now to eternity. The manager passes by when he notices a peculiar thing. A man twenty or so feet above him dangling, dead with the cardboard sign from yesterday that now reads "heres hopeing to macke yur day sum bit briter". My question is if you were the manager would you have given the man even some kind of miniscule job to make his day and save his life or would you have cursed the same way and driven off to attend your mundane world? When it comes to it what will you do?