You know you want to die.
You always know what I want. Why don’t you tell me what I should DO, motherfucker!?!
That was a question I could answer myself. I should just lie low and let the authorities take care of everything. I shouldn’t even contact Amy or my parents or anybody. I should just crawl off in to a hole and hope I’m not pegged for the murder of that street punk. I wish I would listen to my OWN advice sometimes.
Go get him!
Yeah, yeah.
I asked the waitress to put my French dip in a bag. I would eat it during my walk to Amy’s place. I set off toward the suburb of Arden Park, which was roughly eight miles away.
---------------
Walking down J Street toward Fair Oaks was a tedious job. I passed several restaurants on the way. One of them was a place called the Broiler, which was a spot Amy and I used to frequent quite a bit before I left for the Corps. We were quite a pair back then.
I met her in junior high. She sat behind me in Mr.Yee’s history class. Mr. Yee was so incompetent and indifferent that we used to leave class whenever we wanted. Our usual plans included a trip to the library or maybe a stop in the cafeteria. It was easy to blend in with whatever group of kids were there at the time. We even had a little make-out spot. It was a bathroom that was deemed unsafe because of construction that was supposed to be going on all the time. We never saw any workers though. In fact, all we really saw was the back of each others’ throats. I should consider myself lucky, I guess. I might’ve gotten her pregnant back THEN if we had ever gotten the chance to really be alone with each other.
My parents and hers were both extremely responsible, loving people. They still are. That is one of the reasons the setup is the way it is. I don’t get to see Christian or Amy, but they are taken care of financially. I contested the situation at first. After much debate, I realized that no one really took me seriously and I would never win the fight. I never got up the stomach to ask Amy to marry me and after almost throwing my father out of a window during a manic episode no one wanted to see me anymore anyway. That was three years ago. I was jarred out of my reminiscing by a familiar voice.
“Got any change, buddy?” I had almost tripped over him.
“Wake the fuck up, Stoney! You’re asking MY ass for change?” He looked up and a tired smile came over his face. He was always drunk, high, or asleep, but Stoney was a genuinely nice guy who wouldn’t hurt a fly. I had known him almost the entire time I’d been on the streets. He actually managed to make enough money doing odd jobs and panhandling to pay for a room in a warehouse that had been converted into makeshift apartments. For $50 a month he got a room to sleep in, a mattress, a hotplate, and the use of a community toilet. I wish I were so lucky.
“C’mon, Kev, you gotta have SOMETHIN you could give me?” There was a twinkle in his eye. Did I mention he was also gay?
“Yeah, I’ll give you a screwdriver up the ass if you don’t stop buggin' me. However, today I got lucky myself, so I’ll pass a little of the generosity on to you. Here ya go.” I handed him a five dollar bill. He gawked in awe. Its not often that bums get anything more than a handful of change. But I was a generous person, and he was a friend, so even though I could really use it myself it made me feel good to give it to him. “Promise me you’ll use it on food instead of drugs?”
“Oh, I wish I could, Kev, I wish I could.” He shook his head as he got to his feet. Stoney is your basic definition of white trash. He never had much of a chance in life and it didn’t look like things were going to change any time soon. He needed what all of us needed, help of any kind from anybody who was willing to get involved. Who really wants to be around people like us? He was dressed pretty much the same as me. I guess there was a reason everybody could always tell homeless people from those more fortunate. We all wore the same “uniform”.
“Where ya goin?” he asked.
“I have to go see Amy.”
“Why the hell ya gonna bother to walk all that way? She lives up in the suburbs, right?” He had good reason to wonder. Hell, I was beginning to question it myself.
Christian.
“Just some business that needs tending to,” I wanted to tell him the truth, but as it was I didn’t even feel comfortable being out on the street, let alone informing Stoney of my personal business. I still wasn’t sure if anybody had seen me during the fight with the street thug. It was best to keep any information ambiguous.
“Must be somethin’ serious. How long has it been since you saw her?”
“Its been a while.”
“Want some company?” I told you he was a nice guy. He probably hadn’t eaten all day, but he was willing to walk across town with me.
“Sure, if you’re up to it.”
“Definitely. First we need some grub though.”
“I’ve got that covered.” I pulled out the French Dip. We walked over to a bus bench that was a little ways down the sidewalk. A street light allowed us to actually see each others’ faces. Not that we really cared, anyway.
“Ooooh, man! Its been quite a while since I’ve had food THIS good!”
“You’ve got God to thank for it,” I said, forgetting who I was talking to for a minute.
“What?”
“Just say a prayer for an old man’s wife.”
“What?”
“Just eat the damn food.” I was confusing MYSELF now.
Thank you.
Yeah, yeah.
“Gosh, Kev, this sure is good. You get this from that place over on K Street?” Au jus dripped from his chin. I offered a napkin.
“Yeah. Hey, Stoney, how’s your little apartment working out?” I was actually considering shacking myself up for a month or two. A real mattress would feel pretty good. Anything feels good compared to concrete.
“Its not too bad.”
“Still $50?”
“Yeah. If you want, I can talk to the landlord.” He was talking and munching on French dip at the same time, a miraculous feat for a man who hadn’t eaten all day.
“I’d appreciate that. What’s his name?”
“Melvin.” I hadn’t even started on my food, and Stoney was already done with his. He pointed to my chow and asked, “You gonna eat all of that?”
“Naw, man, hit it up if you want,” and I slid the other half over to him. Its hard to eat when you’ve got as many things on your mind as I do. I figured I’d grab something later. I could make what was left of the bill last quite a while. There was definitely another French dip on my horizon, as long as I stayed out of jail. Right now I had to get going. The sun would be coming up soon and its easier for people like me to travel at night. Its a LOT easier on the pride. No looks of disdain or eyes full of pity. I wish it was night time ALL the time.
“Stoney, you don’t have to walk with me if you don’t want to.” Homeless people seem to stick out a lot more when they’re in groups.
“If you say so, Kev. Listen, if you need me, I’ll be back at ‘home’ sleeping off this great meal. Thank you, and God Bless!” He laughed as he said it. I couldn’t help but chuckle a little too as he scurried off. Its hard to make that statement sound sincere, but you get pretty good at it after a while.
Go get him.
I’m going, give it a rest already.
You always know what I want. Why don’t you tell me what I should DO, motherfucker!?!
That was a question I could answer myself. I should just lie low and let the authorities take care of everything. I shouldn’t even contact Amy or my parents or anybody. I should just crawl off in to a hole and hope I’m not pegged for the murder of that street punk. I wish I would listen to my OWN advice sometimes.
Go get him!
Yeah, yeah.
I asked the waitress to put my French dip in a bag. I would eat it during my walk to Amy’s place. I set off toward the suburb of Arden Park, which was roughly eight miles away.
---------------
Walking down J Street toward Fair Oaks was a tedious job. I passed several restaurants on the way. One of them was a place called the Broiler, which was a spot Amy and I used to frequent quite a bit before I left for the Corps. We were quite a pair back then.
I met her in junior high. She sat behind me in Mr.Yee’s history class. Mr. Yee was so incompetent and indifferent that we used to leave class whenever we wanted. Our usual plans included a trip to the library or maybe a stop in the cafeteria. It was easy to blend in with whatever group of kids were there at the time. We even had a little make-out spot. It was a bathroom that was deemed unsafe because of construction that was supposed to be going on all the time. We never saw any workers though. In fact, all we really saw was the back of each others’ throats. I should consider myself lucky, I guess. I might’ve gotten her pregnant back THEN if we had ever gotten the chance to really be alone with each other.
My parents and hers were both extremely responsible, loving people. They still are. That is one of the reasons the setup is the way it is. I don’t get to see Christian or Amy, but they are taken care of financially. I contested the situation at first. After much debate, I realized that no one really took me seriously and I would never win the fight. I never got up the stomach to ask Amy to marry me and after almost throwing my father out of a window during a manic episode no one wanted to see me anymore anyway. That was three years ago. I was jarred out of my reminiscing by a familiar voice.
“Got any change, buddy?” I had almost tripped over him.
“Wake the fuck up, Stoney! You’re asking MY ass for change?” He looked up and a tired smile came over his face. He was always drunk, high, or asleep, but Stoney was a genuinely nice guy who wouldn’t hurt a fly. I had known him almost the entire time I’d been on the streets. He actually managed to make enough money doing odd jobs and panhandling to pay for a room in a warehouse that had been converted into makeshift apartments. For $50 a month he got a room to sleep in, a mattress, a hotplate, and the use of a community toilet. I wish I were so lucky.
“C’mon, Kev, you gotta have SOMETHIN you could give me?” There was a twinkle in his eye. Did I mention he was also gay?
“Yeah, I’ll give you a screwdriver up the ass if you don’t stop buggin' me. However, today I got lucky myself, so I’ll pass a little of the generosity on to you. Here ya go.” I handed him a five dollar bill. He gawked in awe. Its not often that bums get anything more than a handful of change. But I was a generous person, and he was a friend, so even though I could really use it myself it made me feel good to give it to him. “Promise me you’ll use it on food instead of drugs?”
“Oh, I wish I could, Kev, I wish I could.” He shook his head as he got to his feet. Stoney is your basic definition of white trash. He never had much of a chance in life and it didn’t look like things were going to change any time soon. He needed what all of us needed, help of any kind from anybody who was willing to get involved. Who really wants to be around people like us? He was dressed pretty much the same as me. I guess there was a reason everybody could always tell homeless people from those more fortunate. We all wore the same “uniform”.
“Where ya goin?” he asked.
“I have to go see Amy.”
“Why the hell ya gonna bother to walk all that way? She lives up in the suburbs, right?” He had good reason to wonder. Hell, I was beginning to question it myself.
Christian.
“Just some business that needs tending to,” I wanted to tell him the truth, but as it was I didn’t even feel comfortable being out on the street, let alone informing Stoney of my personal business. I still wasn’t sure if anybody had seen me during the fight with the street thug. It was best to keep any information ambiguous.
“Must be somethin’ serious. How long has it been since you saw her?”
“Its been a while.”
“Want some company?” I told you he was a nice guy. He probably hadn’t eaten all day, but he was willing to walk across town with me.
“Sure, if you’re up to it.”
“Definitely. First we need some grub though.”
“I’ve got that covered.” I pulled out the French Dip. We walked over to a bus bench that was a little ways down the sidewalk. A street light allowed us to actually see each others’ faces. Not that we really cared, anyway.
“Ooooh, man! Its been quite a while since I’ve had food THIS good!”
“You’ve got God to thank for it,” I said, forgetting who I was talking to for a minute.
“What?”
“Just say a prayer for an old man’s wife.”
“What?”
“Just eat the damn food.” I was confusing MYSELF now.
Thank you.
Yeah, yeah.
“Gosh, Kev, this sure is good. You get this from that place over on K Street?” Au jus dripped from his chin. I offered a napkin.
“Yeah. Hey, Stoney, how’s your little apartment working out?” I was actually considering shacking myself up for a month or two. A real mattress would feel pretty good. Anything feels good compared to concrete.
“Its not too bad.”
“Still $50?”
“Yeah. If you want, I can talk to the landlord.” He was talking and munching on French dip at the same time, a miraculous feat for a man who hadn’t eaten all day.
“I’d appreciate that. What’s his name?”
“Melvin.” I hadn’t even started on my food, and Stoney was already done with his. He pointed to my chow and asked, “You gonna eat all of that?”
“Naw, man, hit it up if you want,” and I slid the other half over to him. Its hard to eat when you’ve got as many things on your mind as I do. I figured I’d grab something later. I could make what was left of the bill last quite a while. There was definitely another French dip on my horizon, as long as I stayed out of jail. Right now I had to get going. The sun would be coming up soon and its easier for people like me to travel at night. Its a LOT easier on the pride. No looks of disdain or eyes full of pity. I wish it was night time ALL the time.
“Stoney, you don’t have to walk with me if you don’t want to.” Homeless people seem to stick out a lot more when they’re in groups.
“If you say so, Kev. Listen, if you need me, I’ll be back at ‘home’ sleeping off this great meal. Thank you, and God Bless!” He laughed as he said it. I couldn’t help but chuckle a little too as he scurried off. Its hard to make that statement sound sincere, but you get pretty good at it after a while.
Go get him.
I’m going, give it a rest already.