I just got to decide between chili or yogurt for lunch. Yogurt won as I am trying to let go of some pounds.
I remember being hungry don't you?
We get that feeling a few times every day.
We cook or go out and voila we can eat!
The other night we went to Patrick's for dinner.
As we sat by the window drinking our wine two street folks I used to know walked by. Each in different directions.
Two years ago these were friends.
Now lifelines and eons later I no longer know them.
I wanted to invite them in to dine but did not as it was a special occasion.
I spent about $55 on dinner.
They could eat at "Sally" for free.
I'd have a full belly as would they.
Then we got in the car and road home.
And they were no doubt still walking and looking for "camping" grounds.
Home for me is a three bed room, two bath house.
Home for them does not exist.
I slept on a lovely queen sized bed.
They slept on cardboard.
I had to get up once to pee and then went back to bed.
They have been awakened to spending the rest of the night in jail for "abusing" the city's anti lodging law which forbids "Camping" of street people.
My $55 on dinner could have bought them each and three more people @ ten dollars a night at Sally's.
If they had money in their pockets it was not enough to buy a nights lodging on a one inch cot at Sally.
I lived on the street for awhile. Spent many a night at Sally and three nights out of doors.
Three free yet oddly cooked meals at Sally.
The card board really helped ward off the chill of the dirt and concrete.
I spent these nights with crack users, prostitutes, domestic violence victims, alcoholic and clean street folk under rain and under stars.
I was always hungry. Lost thirty five pounds. Walked for miles to do free laundry or just kill time.
I wondered, I stumbled, I saddened and felt the street folk's hopelessness trying to invade my Concious.
I was blessed. I was only stolen from twice.
This at Sally while sleeping.
I was blessed because I had the right words to tell:
I am a Lesbian, I am a Dominate, I am a Christian (if twisted), I have some investigative experience, I know guns and how to use them. Etc.
The Kings of the street, men, some pimps, befriended and protected me. The women did not see me as a threat as I did not want their "old man" So I made many a woman friend.
Many I prayed with.
I always held my head high. Spoke on firm grounding of my own shadow.
I looked each and every person in the eye and said "hey" if not more.
I never regretted giving out my last cigarette.
I never damned their drug or alcohol abuse.
I saved my often inedible food from Sally and gave to a hungered one not allowed in Sally.
I made some best street friends:
Sharon
Troll
David (Who's daughter is a friend of my youngest daughter Annabelle.
(Small world this is...)
John
Jodi
Karen
Donnie
Chris
Billy
The professor
The three street "Mamas"
Two pimps and
several prostitutes, especially Big Daddy Red and Red the pro.
And Street Minister Mark Sedacca.
I miss them.
I miss the knowings, the comeraderie, the culture and sub cultures of street life.
Oddly enough I was accepted exactly for whom I was.