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| Looks like they're not there anymore due to a fire. Ugh. |
I rarely give money to bums. Today I did though - in a way. He only asked for 45 cents. And we were at the bus stop. Which prolly meant it was just one of those days when he was short and banked on fellow understanding transit riders to help, cuz we all know its a pay it forward kind of thing. I've prolly solicited at lease $1.15 this way, over the course of the last 4 years on transit. I'm savvy, I already ran my homeless/crazy/creeper radar over him before approaching the stop and the risk meter ran quite low. So I gave him just a quarter and just a little conversation. But I didn't want to become involved much more than that.
Mostly, because the conversation was good. My weakness here is that i didn't wanna deal with being disappointed. Talking to strangers and finding real good convo often ends rather disappointingly with a, "so I really need a dollar right now, look at that nice computer phone, you could spare it" ..." or a, "you got any weed??"
I listened as he told me that he'd been looking for work for 6 weeks, and had just interviewed at a steakhouse to wash dishes. I told him my fiancé was having a tough search too and that he was at an interview right now as well, in fact. At one point, he showed me his hands, every wrinkle was cracking. He'd been a printer, and like any journeyman, stopped using gloves after awhile, cuz well, im thinking there's always a time when were all in so deep and we think 'eh, fuck it'. I looked at him and remembered when I worked at the Press-Telegram. I looked at his eyes and saw the printing presses, just as I saw them peering through the glass. In the basement, still there, still oiled. Unused for the last decade or so, the printing had been outsourced. That scene where you peer beyond glass and see some of your own reflection too. He thought I was a nurse because I suggested olive oil in a glove soaked overnight. I always feel like solutions should be kept simple.
I boarded the bus less than thirty seconds later. Experienced that moment when you watch your fingers rub your bus money together in your hand and then wonder why that experience was put in your afternoon. Coin slot was broken. I could give 2 more quarters to that guy back at the bench? Then quickly thought about what songs I was going to get lost in for this long ride home. Then quickly realized that one side of my headphones had died. Shit. So sucky!
Thirty minutes later, Lonny calls with great wonderful comforting news that he'd had a great interview by a swank West LA boutique hotel. Inside, I celebrate. I look up from from my phone and things are just a little brighter. I still see the cracks in the hands that were just shown to me.
This man ended up showing me his hands.
720 3:43 bus, EB
