Army page2I’d gotten almost used to the way many people either didn’t look at me or would be insulting in public. I had a bizarre experience of being told off in an office by a man who accused me of freeloading off welfare and that I should get a job. Actually I had gone there trying to get a job and was bemused by being called all sorts of stuff by a guy I’d barely introduced myself to. He also wasn’t going to give me the job I figured out. To this day I have no idea what set him off, just some personal craziness of his own I guess!
While I found that carrying my backpack around all the time a problem I had little choice. No one could leave stuff at the shelter. Anything left behind would be thrown away was one of the rules there. It was no help to bring my backpack to interviews I found. I’d be honest about my situation with people but found that while they’d express sympathy they never hired me. A couple of times I found they’d also sent for security to get the homeless guy out of there! Job interviews can be so much fun! Of course these are the times I actually got to see someone; mostly it was fill out the application and we’ll get back to you - maybe!
After a while I stopped telling people I was homeless figuring they could find that out after I was hired and shown them what I could do. Also figured having a paying job would change my circumstances. For the most part I regard the information about being homeless as not their business. If they won’t be a help to me then I have little reason to give them such personal information. It was just another thing for them to hold against me.
On Sundays there wasn’t much to accomplish. I could go walking and did. There was window-shopping that needed doing. In the afternoon the library opened and I could go there to check out a book (among my id was my library card for the county) and read the papers and magazines. I have always had the probably foolish belief that the job offerings in the Sunday papers were the best to start with. Right after reading the funny pages though; one must maintain a proper prospective on things!
There were weekdays I would go to the library. Sometimes I was just too pissed at the world or to vulnerable and retreated there. Wednesday was good for this. I could save up a whole week of problems and decide Wednesday was my “mental health day” and spend some time among the books and magazines. The section of books on arts is extensive and I want them all!
However on Wednesday there was another attraction. The Museum of Photography is open to the public for free then. I could go in and browse the exhibits and get some time on their computers for free. When they opened every day for free during their slow season I could go in and check my e-mail on one of their iMacs set up on the main floor. Between the computers there and the one at the main library I could get in a couple of hours online on Wednesday. I signed up for e-mail with Excite and Yahoo. I didn’t have a home nor phone but found people would accept an e-mail address as acceptable on applications.
But to return to the subject of my Sundays I found a lot of it was free time, empty time to be truthful. At some point I made a point of staying to help with the clean up in the morning at the shelter for the most part this mainly meant either sweeping or moping. Little enough to do to justify my taking up space there besides it was something to do, to fill the hours in the day. I found that a five, maybe ten-minute walk would take me to the park where the armory is. During winter this may be opened to as a shelter. Personally my thoughts are that temporary shelter is good but only temporarily. What we need are more jobs paying a living wage and more houses and apartments people can afford.
Anyway on Sundays a church group would come to the park and bring a hot breakfast of pancakes and sausages with, wonder of wonders, coffee! On those mornings when there wasn’t a breakfast much less coffee this was -dare I say -a godsend. (Guess I did dare to say?) A group of always gathered. The one’s who looked happiest were always on the ones who’d slept outside the night before and may not have eaten then.
Homeless people like the Irish long ago learned to eat when food is put before you because there is no guarantee when the next meal will come. Everyone I knew went without eating two if not more days a week. Worse to me was that I had acquaintances here but no friends. Everyone went around with their shields up at all times. I too was this way; we were all gun-shy of any more trouble.
But I could go somewhere and sit and read or write - or quietly mourn my losses. More and more I was turning to my sketchbooks or writing. One Sunday I sold a couple of sketches I did in ballpoint. Wasn’t a lot of money but I felt as good as if it was a few thousand. I was offered ten dollars for each of the two they wanted and was more than happy about it!
Later someone was looking for some information about forms to file with the city about his business. I knew where to find them online and he paid me for printing them out. This earned me another ten bucks; more than I was going to ask for but he felt it was worth it to him. Dealing with the clerks was a hassle apparently.
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