Nice to see you guys made it back or maybe just made it once, either way THANKS! I'm fortunate enough to live in close proximity to where I work which means that I can lend a helping hand to Mother Earth and commute on foot. Seeing as I have no set schedule I get the joy of seeing the streets at almost every hour of the day. I also get the joy of passing 2 bus stops (how lazy and crazy is this city to have bus stops every quarter of a mile, you've got a pair of legs, use em! (if not, just wheelchair there or whatever.)) where some of the greatest people you'll ever set your eyes on, like to hang out.
When I work the 5am shift, the 8+ lane road lays mostly dormant. I've yet to see anyone else actually walking around at this time of day. From time to time I do see a homeless gentleman sleeping at one of the bus stops I pass. Because of all the buzz with that homeless guy that has a golden voice, one morning I decided that I wanted to:
1)Wake up the gentleman.
2)Get his name.
3)Find out what his deal was.
So I figured he'd probably be hungry and thirsty, because homeless guys have it rough and don't get much in the way of nutritional stuff. I grabbed a mug out of the cupboard, one I didn't care about because I didn't know if I'd actually get it back or if I did get it back, that I'd actually ever want to drink out of that thing again. I mean, would you actually drink out of a cup that you knew had pee in it at one point? I doubt it, unless you're just a totally weird weirdo. Not to say this mug would have pee in it, but a homeless guys lips, well...never mind. I also made him a plate of scrambled eggs and a donut. It was a trick-donut. It was a bagel with some chocolate Betty Crocker frosting on it. At least the bagel was plain and not onion and the frosting was frosting and not just mint toothpaste. I guess eating toothpaste can make you sick. Who woulda thought? So ya, it was a good trick-donut.
So I put it in a box. The box was just an empty box of cereal that I turned sideways, because I'm good like that. I cut a big hole in the top there so that he wouldn't have a very hard time getting at the trick-donut, eggs and the mug of coffee.
I left my house and started on my way. Before we get any further I would like to just let you know that that crud is difficult to carry or balance or whatever, real tough stuff. So I'm walking down the street and I'm coming up to this Bus Stop hoping the dude was going to be there sleeping and I realize something. I realize that I forgot the stupid fork and napkins, but then I realize that this guy is homeless and he probably doesn't even ever use that stuff anyway. I think they call that “going commando.” I yell at the guy but he doesn't even move or budge or make any sounds at all. I put the awesome-box of food on the ground and look for a stick or something to poke him with. I finally found one and started poking him with it because I heard you get some kind of blood borne pathogens if you aren't careful.
He still didn't wake up so I throw caution to the wind and just start poking him like mad with my pinky finger. He was cold to the touch so I immediately thought he must be dead or something. Then I realized it was just cold out. That's why he was cold. And that was when he woke up.
He started yelling at me and I jumped back for a second. Then I was like “Hey man just calm down a sec and lower that voice of yours because all kinds of people are sleeping right now. I just want to ask you some questions and I even brought you some breakfast because I bet you're hungry.”
His language was as bad as his breath, which was as bad as a dumpster so I'm gonna clean it up to keep this place neat and tidy. He said “Hey you little rascal why don't just hand over that breakfast and we'll talk.”
“Ya okay. Here's some breakfast.” Oh man it was so hard not to laugh. The first thing he went for was that trick-donut. He started eating it and had no clue that it wasn't even real. He probably hadn't had a donut since the 80s, if they even had donuts back then.
“This practically the greatest donut I've ever tasted.” He proclaimed.
“Hey guy, what's your name?” I said.
“Sparky.”
“No way buddy, that's a total lie. Nobody names anyone Sparky unless they're a dog.”
He whipped out his drivers license. It wasn't even a real drivers license it was a piece of paper with a crude picture of him done in black crayon that said his name was Sparky Winchester. I decided if he went through all the trouble to make this thing, then it must be his name. Right?
“Alright, I guess your name really is Sparky.” I said then handed back his ID.
“Ya you rascal, it really is.” He said while munching on that trick-donut. Then he grabbed a small pile of the eggs I made and shoved em' into his dirty face hole.
Man this guy sounds drunk-hammered, I thought. It was like he didn't even think twice about the fact he didn't have any napkins to wipe with.
“So now my next question, Sparky.”
“You got it rascal.”
“Okay before my next question could you please stop calling me rascal. I have a name you know.”
“Well I don't know it. What is it?”
I didn't want to give him my real name so I just said it was “Rex.”
“Okay Rex.” He ate and dropped food all over the place. That trick-donut was long gone by now.
“Let me tell you a little about my life.”
At this point I have to stop repeating the dialog because this guy's mouth was like Dumpster Town, NJ both in verbal content and odor (I was having regrets about doing the trick-donut with frosting instead of toothpaste, at least his breath would smell nice for a little while if I used toothpaste). He ranted about things that are illegal to do in the United States and other things about babies and how he thought it was fine to just give them abortions whenever you wanted to. Then he just started to pour the hot coffee all over his privates and said he didn't give a crud about his privates anymore because what woman would want to have grownup naked-relation times with a guy that lived at a bus stop anyway.
Unfortunately it was getting dangerously close to my shift so I told Mr. Winchester that I needed to get going and that we'd need to pick up this conversation a little later. He seemed incredibly interested in my life as well, and even wanted to know my address. I told him and he said he was gonna be in touch with me. Can't wait to see him again.
So I walked down the rest of the lonely street. When I turned around again I saw Mr. Winchester lay back down on the bench and close his little eyes for a few more z's before sunrise. What a life he must have, not having to work. I bet you could really get things done. If he has money, he might even be able to do a little sightseeing. If I were homeless I'd go to the beach everyday and work on my tan. After all, you wouldn't have much of a choice.
Until next time, Good Morning!
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