The Homeless

OK America the tedious shit is done I’m now linked to Face Book like a good slut so share my gospel my good disciples.  Together we can make the world populated by Gentlemen and Ladies once more.   TELL YOUR FRIENDS! PLEASE! 

The Homeless

The homeless are seen as the shit of society, the addicts, the crazy, and the destitute. I partially disagree with that statement. Some are not cracked out and have great stories and senses of humor. The greatest hobo signs I’ve seen were “Bet you a dollar you read this sign.” and “I did this to myself I voted for Obama.” Such creativity and writing style should be marketed. Possibly for a coffee table book of all the pictures with funny signs, suburbia eats that shit up. But if you do this I want a copy.

I think the homeless is a great untapped group of workers. First understand that many homeless are very nice people the world has shit on. Also you must learn that for some its just a life choice. They have no family, goals or responsibilities and they are just happy with that. The problem is American society doesn’t trust the dirty. But enough politics. The first thing for hiring homeless is don’t be surprised to get ripped off, but when this works its beautiful. I knew a guy called D. And D, if you’re out there, Kevlar says hey and hopes you’re old ass is OK in New York. I first met D while gaming, high as shit, in my first down town apartment. Crime was up and so were the parties. Lets face it, in the top five murder capital in America, a pot head can blend in nicely. So I’m stoned and gaming when I hear sweeping in the hallway. This was not uncommon because our building manager was on something but since everyone in the building was, no one cared or bothered one another. Just I’m pretty sure I was the only pot head then. So I hear this sweeping in the hallway but it doesn’t move past my door he just keeps sweeping the hallway right outside my door. This continues for about twenty minutes and I had to see what was going on so I open the door to see a 50 year old black man I had never seen before. He was wearing very worn cloths and cleaning out the closet under the stairs. We looked at each other, I slowly closed the door, hit my bowl, and thanked god I didn’t live under the stairs. Five minutes later I’m high again and have forgotten the whole thing. Then a knock on the door. Its D of course, I don’t know who the hell he is then and he asks me for a smoke. I shake my head and give him one. Five min later another knock. Do you have a light? Now this is when it gets hazy because I was constantly drunk at this time in my life, but I’m relatively sure that’s the night we got drunk for the first time. At some point I said fuck it dude come on in and we got shitty wasted and he passed out on my couch. Now D lived in the closet for a few months and during that time we helped each other out. He needed clothes, shower, a bowl hit every now and again and a few bucks a day. I needed my floors cleaned, my dishes done, bathroom cleaned and the rest of the homeless controlled to stop theft so we became partners. I decked out his closet with a futon cushion some blankets and gave him some clothes. I got him high or gave him a bud for him and his friends and let him use the shower every now and again.

Great routine; this was my life during a regular night. Oh yeah, and I told him office hours are from when I wake up to eight at night. So me and some pals chilling getting blazed on my couch. The front door opens because I never locked it and D walks in. Now the people I’m with have no idea who the fuck this guy is, but he just let himself in, and without saying a word walks straight to the kitchen and started doing dishes. Later he picks up the broom and seeks out the daily clumps of hair from my 178 lbs dog with three coats of hair. You know how they say some dogs have two coats the top and under coat, well this wonderful furry fuck shed so much I say he had three coats. So a plastic grocery bag later he’s done and heads to the bathroom. After some ruckus of cleaning he returns, again without saying a word to me. The people are still smoking talking and I’m paying 0 attention to the 50 year old man cleaning my house. He emerges from the bathroom approaches me with an open hand in which I place a small bud. He thanks me, I say till next time and after ten to fifteen minutes after it is all over. As soon as the door closes behind him, the woman as if busting to ask, erupts with “What the hell just happened?” I simply said “Oh that’s D my friend who cleans my house although he referees to himself as my undercover butler.”

5 thoughts on “The Homeless

  1. I really enjoyed reading this! Just so you know I don’t dislike the homeless. I actually like taking the time to stop and talk to them. They are just people like everyone else.

  2. The only reason I’m not homeless is because I still have a daughter to take care of… so I stick around and play wife for her dad. It’s working for now. – Homeless people used to be invisible, because I saw them everywhere, like fixtures in the city. Now I know I’m one paycheck / disagreement away from being one myself, so I always stop to chat. It’s been an eye opener. Most of them lay down more humanity in one look than some people I’ve met are able to fake over an entire lifetime. Something is wrong with a country that treats it’s people like this, but I’m thankful to have finally had my eyes open. Life may sure suck right now, but some lessons have to learned the hard way. Nothing to it but that.

  3. There’s this guy who panhandles in front of the liquor store next to the building I used to work in. He had this arrangement with everyone who worked in the building to keep their bikes from getting stolen and to stall the meter maids when someone was double parked. Given the amount of pot he was smoking, I think he was doing all right for himself.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s