Foo Tamp

The Office of Family Services, which oversees (if such a word is applicable) Social Services in the area in which I live is a squat brick building on the edge of a seedy area near downtown Baton Rouge. When I came here about ten days ago to apply for food stamps, I got here about 7:30 in the morning, to avoid the line. There were about ten people in line,and things went fairly quickly. I filled out my application and waited until my name was called, and then I went through “Door #1”, as a sign made of yellow construction paper, taped to the wall, indicated.

I had my interview with an intake worker, who went over my application with me, took my ID and entered information into a computer. She told me that I might not receive a lot of aid, since I didn't have any recurring expenses. I explained to her that I was homeless, and that I wound up spending most of my money to stay in hotels whenever I could, as I had no place currently to stay at all and had to hold a job, which required some attempt at personal hygiene.

Last Saturday, I spent the last bit of money I had to stay at Hampton Inn. I knew I wouldn't have much for food this week, but I counted on my food stamp award to feed me until Thursday, when I get paid. Didn't have a bad Sunday: Travis and Fernando and I went to see “W”, which would have been a lot funnier if it hadn't all been true, and I split an order of chicken fingers with Travis at the mall, and then we walked around the new “Boulevard”, which has some new shops and a bookstore and restaurants.

Monday, I checked my food stamp balance and was amazed when I found out that I had been credited exactly $0.24. I checked the transaction record, and, sure enough, a transfer was made to my account on the sixteenth of exactly twenty-four cents. So, Monday night, I stayed with my friend M. (more on that, later), and ate a sandwich there. Last night, I was back at the Possum Hilton, after working a twelve-hour shift, and ate a sandwich which one of my co-workers bought for me because she felt sorry for me, and I was starving. So, here I am, on Wednesday morning, back at the food stamp office, waiting to talk to somebody about this farce. This is nuts. Apparently, if I had a place to live, I could get food stamps, because then I would have regular expenses (which would actually be lower than my current ones). Of course, if I was straight, and pumped out three or four or five additions to world overpopulation, I would qualify for even more food stamps, as well as Section 8 HUD housing (which you really wouldn't want to live in, but which beats being out on the streets by a mile). I am beginning to draw the conclusion that the system is really not set up to help anyone. It seems to be some kind of strange game that I don't know the rules to.

So, I wait in the waiting room for three hours, while line after line after line of people file past and disappear behind Door #1, Door #2 (only a few here: must be special cases) or into Room 120, where they show videos about How Not To Use Your Benefits. Finally, there are only three other 'clients' (I love this word)in the waiting room, besides me and the lady cop, who is really nice and says she sees me all over town on my bike. So, I go to Window #2 and say, "You know, I hate to be rude, but I've been here over three hours and nobody has called me to go to a door, and I'm feeling kind of neglected."

The lady takes my SSN (you don't exist to the government without this), flips through some papers, and tells me to take a seat (again). So, I pick up my laptop and continue working on the novel I have been writing. I actually wrote half a chapter, sitting there, so my time hasn't been completely wasted. Finally, a phone on the wall (there are three of them, separated by partitions)rings and the intercom calls my name and says "Pick up Phone #3. So, I pick up Phone #3 and a voice tells me how sorry they are that I've been waiting "for a little while". Then, it tells me that my case has been rejected, and that I don't qualify for benefits.

"Do you guys realize that I am homeless?" I say. "And that most of my income goes towards finding occasional shelter, and that means staying in hotels when I can? And, do you guys realize that I have to work, so I have to bathe at least a couple of times a week, so I'm not all stanky?" Yes, the voice says, but you make too much money to receive benefits." It seems that I average about $1200 per month (gross), and the maximum allowable income for a single individual is $1,157 (gross). Go figure! I'm too rich for Foo Tamp! I guess that should positively affect my self-image, but I would have rather had the food. The voice goes on to tell me that they will be glad to provide me with a resource sheet, and I am tempted to tell the voice what to do with the resource sheet (which lists soup kitchens and the Food Bank), but I just politely say "thank you", and hang up Phone #3.

"Well," I tell the lady cop on the way out the door, "It wasn't a complete waste of three hours: at least I finished a chapter." She says,"Hey. You be safe out there," and I say, "You, too". Then I leave.

I go by the store where I work and ask the Store Director about a $20 advance on my check, so I can eat today and buy a spare inner tube (I had a flat yesterday, and I don't like to travel without a spare, and he says to talk to the bookkeeper. Me. is a wonderful lady (she let me spend the night at her house, once, and her husband even cooked me breakfast!), and she says not to tell anybody, just promise to give it back to her tomorrow, so I get $20, so I can eat tonight and get my spare inner tube. Yay.

I work Thursday night. My plan is to cash my check, pay Me. back (of course)and, hopefully, La Quinta will have a room. If I get in about 3 or so, I can have a shower and clean up before I go to work, and I can wash clothes there when I get off. I will call them Thursday (I have a Preferred Customer card!)and see if I can reserve a room. Something to look forwards to.

It is strange, working in a grocery store with all the wonderful food in it, and checking people out at the register with all kinds of stuff I would love to buy and eat, but I don't have the money. Like yesterday, where I checked people for 12 hours with nothing in my stomach but six pieces of bread from the bakery sample case. One woman bought over $300 worth of snack foods: chips, dip, pizza, sodas, etc. Her kids were coming back from college for a week for Fall break. That was for "in between" meals, if they got hungry. Then, there are the people with their Foo Tamp cards, like the one I have, except they have benefits on theirs. Watching some of the things some of them buy actually makes me angry, sometimes: meat and seafood and luxury items Of course, I couldn't use any of those things anyway, because I have no way to store or cook food, but it makes me jealous, all the same. That's another thing I don't understand: why Foo Tamp doesn't cover hot food? For a while, after Gustav visited us and knocked out most of the city's power, Foo Tamp covered hot meals, but that is over. So, if you are homeless, like me, you are not allowed hot food; punishment, I guess, for your status in life.

And another thing weird: after Gustav, FEMA authorized $160 emergency Foo Tamp cards for everybody living in the affected area. I could have gotten one, but I was working so much I never got the time to go apply. So, all kinds of people are still buying food with the "storm cards". This includes middle class and even upper middle-class folks whose opinion, previously, was generally that Foo Tamp was a program greatly misused (and it is, sometimes) by Cadillac-driving welfare mothers with 67 children and no job. These guys have none of the shame that is often evident with regular Foo Tamp customers, who often hide the front of the card so other people in line won't know that they aren't using a credit card. What a world!

So, what the hell is Foo Tamp for? Well, apparently, not for people like me. I keep wondering: what the hell is wrong with a system that offers little or no help to people who are willing and trying to get out of a bad situation? What is all this for? If I was straight, and had a few dependents, there are a lot of services (albeit not enough, or very good ones) available. Me, by myself, I'm not even a blip on the radar.