A Homeless Man
I write this now still in the luxury of my air conditioned car. I’m crying off and on. I drove away because I couldn’t let myself stick around.
I encountered a man while bumming on wifi outside of a coffee joint. It was late in the night. The man was clearly a wreck. At first he had a story about his girlfriend locking him out of the house although that was not what was happening. The man is homeless.
I think back now and only 30 minutes after asking him I can’t even remember his name. I do remember his story though. Six months back something went wrong in his life. Overnight his company closed up leaving him short a couple of pay checks, with bills, and jobless. He was already behind in rent and without being able to earn any money was quickly evicted. He had a least one lady friend in which he tried to go to for a place to live for a while. She was somewhat rich and had a jealous boyfriend that she believed was spying on her. As a result he was not allowed to stay even a night. The man’s life was chaotically spiraling.
At some point the man took to drinking as a means to deal with his problems. Early in his homelessness he still had a car although the drinking and the car were not compatible. One night he discovered this when he ran into a parked tow truck. The police showed up and through some clever lies he convinced them he was not the driver.
As the story continues the man is puking the food and water out in front of me that I gave him earlier in the night. It’s not entirely clear to me as to what his ailment is such that he is unable to hold in basic life sustenance. He has been drinking. He admits to drinking in the afternoon although I’m not convinced this is necessarily it.
Apparently the last day has been hard for him. You see, somehow he got into a fight with some black guy last night. The police came and noticed that he was not looking so good. Through some means he was taken to a hospital. At the hospital he sat for 4 or 5 hours and then after being looked at was simply given some water because they determined he was dehydrated. This experience did not meet the standards he had compared to an LA hospital where he was hooked up to an IV and also given drugs for his pain. Oh and clearly the man was in pain. Ha, of course the drinking doesn’t help. But besides the drinking he showed me his various wounds that were hurting him. When the man walked he limped too in pain.
I talked to the man a bit to determine what he was considering for options. Most oddly, him holding a sign asking for money was NOT an option. I was perplexed. He explained that he couldn’t bare to be seen like this by someone he knew. The other thing in his mind was a deal he could make with a local organization. Apparently through this organization you must commit yourself for 6 months to them. You do work through them and they take care of you. They do not pay you and he did not like this.
It’s clear to me he has a drinking problem. He somewhat recognizes this. In an odd fascination at one point he even mentions about how drinking helps him. I don’t remember the precise words but the view was essential that the alcohol was a medicine.
The man apparently has a history. He became a felon many years back. This follows him around and makes getting a job and dealing with the police difficult. The man in fact complains of the police. They come by give him verbal trouble and sometimes use physical force too.
The man spoke of being a man. He should be able to take care of himself. Demeaning himself to ask for money on the street would take away the one thing he still is. He has other limits too. Another man offered him $15 in exchange for sexual favors. The homeless man quite clearly told me he couldn’t do it because he was not a homosexual.
Before long the homeless man is looking to pass out although he is severally dehydrated. He considers water from a decoration fountain nearby but I advise we check out some other options first. It’s late and everything in the immediate area is closed. Still, after a bit of a hunt I find a vending machine that is out of water but still has sprite. With a bit of change I retrieve the sprite and give it to him.
I walk the homeless man back to his stash of stuff, leave him with some money, and say good bye and good night.
It’s not clear to me at all what I’m dealing with nor if it matters. I know not really this man. At times I did worry some. I still feel like a straight middle class american with regards to my need for security. Although now all my physical processions are now contained in my car and this unknown and possibly desperate man sat near me in the middle of the night. Thoughts did enter my mind about the potential danger. A different place and time may yield a desperate man with a knife and some attitude. My preconceptions are warped by my own desires for safety and comfort.
I considered the health of the man when I left him. I mean, quite honestly, does finding him in this place leave me responsible if he is indeed going through serious health conditions? …
One thing was terribly clear to me in all of this. The circumstance for this guy are dire and his own psyche gets in the way. At one point he very briefly joked about killing himself as a way out. Only I knew he wasn’t really joking. The man is in deep physical and mental angst and death would be only too appealing. Still, the man holds on for reasons I’m unsure of. I can only guess somewhere in there he still has some hope. What lies between that vision of hope and his current place are things most would likely keep far away.
Now, of course I fully expect most people that read this will respond with clear defenses as a means to distance themselves. Let’s see
-The homeless people cause their own problems
-The homeless man could be lying
-The homeless man could be sensationalizing his story
-This homeless man is a felon and drunk
-The homeless man has clear mental conditions
-There is nothing I can do to help
-I already do help by doing …
-There are programs out there to help the homeless
etc.
Believe me when i say I’ve used those defenses too and still will likely do so in the future. Still, for the moment I sit with just the experience and the story. And by this I mean I don’t consider what my role should be or how I should respond and instead just accept what I experienced. Heh, perhaps I’ll cry more too because that seems to be what I want to do.
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