Another Night on the Street

Okay, so I finally hooked up with m ex and his bf, and hung out with them for a few hours. Drank a few beers, had a sandwich, and we watched Hairspray (the remake, not the old John Waters one). I was kind of hoping they might offer me the couch for the night, but they never do, and I never ask anyone if I can spend the night at their house: I wait for them to offer it. I don't know if this is prde or just being polite on my part. Maybe it's part of both.

So, I had to leave there, with no place to go. I had scoped out a couple of possible places, and one seemed to be okay: even had a somewhat mouldy couch I could sleep on if I had to, but the mosquito problem was so fucking bad that I couldn't possibly stay there. All I need t add to my troubles is a dose of West Nile virus.

So, I cruised the neighborhood, which is right off of campus, looking for some place I might hole up for the night that might be reasonably safe and somewhat mosquito-free. No luck. I was leaving a parking lot over by these apartments when this young guy yelled to me and I recognized him as this kid Brian that I worked with during my brief stint at the car wash in Prairieville, back when Bridget and I were friends, before she fucked me over and left me to rot on the streets. Turns out he lives with his gf in this apartment block. Told him I was looking for a place to crash, but he didn't know any place nearby. So, I took off and rode around the same area for a while, sort of aimlessly, oping something might mysteriously appear and alleviate my fucked-up sitation, but nothing did.

Finally stopped by HIghland Coffees, which is a cool spot where LSU people congregate at night, and they have free wireless, which is where I am now. I don't have any coffee, though, since I wastd my last few bucks on margaritas. I won't have any money until Chester pays me on hursday for helping him with the bread route. So, here I am, on the patio at Highland Coffees, surrounded by happy people all drinking coffee nd chatting and studying and all. This may be as good as it gets tonight. I've got about an hour before my battery dies. There aren't too many mosquitoes, but still a few, buzzing around. There is enough breeze to kind of blow them away.

This would be a good place to tak about how it feels to be absolutely nowhere: it sucks. The worst thing aout being homeless is that there is an acute sense of not belonging anywhere. It's almost like walking on the moon. There is no rest, nor is there a place to rest or sleep, or any hope of one. All the people around you, for the most part, have places to go. They can find peace somewhere. They can sleep and be comfortable for a while. You can't. You are truly a stranger in a strange land. There is the most awful feeling of never being anyplace safe. You wind up having to mve all of the time, for fear of attracting the attention of unsavory people, who will hurt or kill you to get what little stuff you have, or the poice, who will fuck with you out of curiousity, boredom or just plain malice. For a short time, here, I am somewhat safe, but the place will be closing soon and then I ill have no place else to go tonight. I will probably get no sleep tonight, same as last night. On top of that, my battery is down to 45 minutes, and, since I can't afford to buy coffee, I am too ashamed to go inside and plug my laptop into a wall socket: that seems to me to be really rude.

I texted my friend, not asking for asylum, but just hoping he would offer it, but he hasn't gotten back to me. Again, I won't ask for a place to spend the night, but, if it were offered, I would certainly take him up on it. I am so fucking tired. My eyes hurt. I have no idea when I will get a chance to sleep. I intended to go down to the Office of Family Services tomorrow and apply for food stamps before work, but I may be too tired and depressed for that.

There is a table next to me where some young people are sitting: one is an amazingly cute boy with blond hair. He is talking about his trip to Europe, and eating a muffin: a muffin with a muffin, go figure. I envy him. I can hear music from a live band next door at Northgate Tavern. If my situation didn't suck so much, if I had a few companions with me, I might sit back and enjoy the ambiance, but circumstances rob me of that.

All I desire right now, all I truly want, is a safe place to stay for the night, where I can get some sleep, so I can go to work tomorrow. Somehow, I have to find a way to change this situation: I can't endure this much longer. I is draining. It sucks you dry like the mosquitoes that are chewing on my ankles and whining around my ears as I write this. I need shelter. All human beings need shelter: it is one of the basic needs in the hierarchy of needs. If I don't change things soon, I very well may not survive this, at least not intact. My worst fear is to stop caring. I don't want to stop caring. If I stop caring, I'll wind up one of those smelly guys who lives under a bridge and begs you for change so he can buy a bottle of Thunderbird or Heaven Hill Whiskey. I am far too fabulous to let that happen to me. It would be a tragic loss of a vital national resource.