June 10, 2011

This weekend is one of my weekends off from homelessness.  I'll be back to post on Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday.  If you didn't read that like a monster truck announcer, you should be ashamed.  The song of the day today is "I Want You" as performed by Taddy Porter.

Yesterday after work, I decide that I need to do laundry and take a shower (I have not showered since Monday except for washing my hair in a sink on Wednesday).  I head to Carpenter's Church at 6:00, and I arrive to find the door locked.  There are several people milling around outside and I ask one of them when Carpenter's Church is open for the homeless to use these services.  He informs me that Carpenter's Church does not have laundry facilities as I had been told, but their showers may be used from 8:00 AM to 11:00 AM.  He tells me that the Salvation Army might let me do laundry.  I head to the Salvation Army and speak with the desk clerk.  He tells me that only residents of the facility may use the laundry room, but points me to a building a little over a mile away that allows the homeless to do laundry from 9:00 AM to 1:00 PM weekdays.  I've found that this is the most frustrating part of being homeless.  Services are provided at the most inconvenient hours for the employed.  The lack of a free laundry facility is not that big of a deal because the homeless can always use a laundromat at almost any hour, and it only costs about $1.00 per load (if you air dry).  Showers are a more pressing need.  Of course truck stops have showers, but truck stops are not always conveniently located and you have to pay. 

The easy solution is to stay at the Salvation Army, but their rules sometimes make it difficult.  I've stated before that dinner is at 5:30 for residents of the facility, and residents are not allowed to leave once they've checked in.  This is all great for the unemployed but, isn't the goal to get these people back on their feet?  The employed, then, could skip dinner and not have to arrive back at the facility until 9:45 which is a viable option, but that creates one more expense (dinner).  Also, if you happen to miss curfew one night (without proof you were at the hospital, work, or in jail), you cannot stay at the facility for ninety days.  Keep in mind that all of this must be done without the use of a car. 

The homeless are restricted to riding the bus, riding a bike, or walking.  Each day, I spend no less than an hour riding my bike to and from work, and I am one of the lucky ones with good health to ride a bike.  I checked the Citibus website to see what the transit time would be like if the bus were my best option.  A daily pass is $3.00, and a weekly pass is $12.50.  If I had to be at work at 9:00 AM, I would need to catch the 8:15 bus out of the downtown station which is about half a mile from Tent City.  This would put me just down the street from my workplace at 8:45.  Now, if I get off work at 6:00 PM, I would need to catch the 6:15 bus down the street from my workplace and ride back to the downtown station, arriving at 7:15.  The 6:15 bus is the latest bus that I could catch.  Arriving downtown at 7:15 means I'm too late for any of the free meals offered downtown, and I would need to pay for dinner.  I assume that I need to arrive to my job free of body odor, so two times a week I would need to walk to Flying J to take a shower (a little over half a mile from Tent City, a 15 minute walk one-way).  I'm at work during the lunch hour so I need to provide my own lunch five days a week.  So, having a job has cost me no less than 8.5 hours transit time and $53.50 per week (assuming a five day work week, weekly bus pass, $4 a day for dinner, $2 a day for lunch, one load of laundry per week at a laundromat, and two $5 showers at Flying J).  All of this is for a minimum wage job which would yield about $250 per week before expenses (assuming a 40 hour work week).  And, of course, this is all assuming one can find a job.  Why don't the homeless just get a job?  Because it's pretty hard, fancy boy.

Back at Tent City there's quite a bit going on.  We had a big rain shower today that lasted about thirty minutes, but created quite a mess around the camp.  I'm helping a member of Management set up a new tent for a resident whose tent flooded during the storm and the other two members of management are nearby speaking with a disgruntled resident.  It seems they gave this guy notice to leave yesterday, but he is still here.  He's about 35 with a shaved head and a goatee.  He's a bigger man just over six feet tall, and I heard him say the other day that he had been in prison prior to arriving at Tent City.  He's pretty angry right now, and Slim doesn't stand a chance should he become violent.  I ask the guy whose tent we're setting up what the exiled's problem is, and he tells me that the man had made a sexual comment to a female resident the other day.  The hammer of justice is swift at Tent City, and the offender was given 24 hours to vacate.  I have been impressed by the enforcement of the rules here, but I'm a little disappointed the council has not convened to pass judgement on the destitute delinquent.  I'm hopeful this will happen soon. 

The cooler weather brought on the by the rain has caused some normally sedentary residents to rouse from their roosts.  I've seen one resident every day that I've been at Tent City sitting in the same spot on a recliner near the barn.  He's about 40 years old with long hair and a big, full beard resembling a younger Willie Nelson.  He wears cutoff denim shorts and a grey tank top every day with a black headband keeping his hair out of his face.  He looks like a Rufus.  I imagine Rufus's parents taking him on tour with the Grateful Dead when he was a baby and, though I've never seen it, I'm positive Rufus spends his days smoking grass and floating on the breeze.  For such a laid back guy, he's got a purposeful gait, stalking around the camp like he doesn't have all day to do nothing.  Rufus has found a basketball in the barn, and he marches over to a concrete slab on the corner of the lot.  There's an old, beat up basketball hoop on one end of the slab that's got a rim that seemingly bends at four different angles.  I'm anxious to see his skills, and as soon as he takes his spot where the free throw line would be, I can tell that he has none.  Rufus's first shot sails over the backboard, but it doesn't seem to faze him as he plods over to pick up the basketball.  He briefly gets distracted by a puddle that he stomps in, and heads back to the free throw line.  I watch him repeat this routine a few times, and never see him even hit the backboard.  Thirty minutes later I see him still shooting free throws, and still missing badly.  I guess Jerry Garcia never taught him the finer points of shooting, and it seems to escape Rufus that a different shot could be attempted.  Even Rufus knows that a game could be won at the free throw line.