A funny thing happened after the forum last night...
We went to the FRF to hear Mighty Thor give his spiel on the brewery, and
after that, I got drunk. You woulda done the exact same thing, I assure
you. So I hobbled over to the bar and lo and behold, all of the other
forum-goers were there getting a load on, too! We soon became comfortably
numb, then I staggered home without falling off the sidewalk once. (I did
have a Designated Walker, so that helped.)
When I got home, there was a Mexican, a German, and an Israeli baking
cookies in our kitchen, so I went back outside and checked the house number
and the street sign. It was my home after all, and I plonked down on its
front porch thinking "these people need to get some work done around here."
After a time, I was able to focus all the way across the street on
StuporAmerica, and on the two guys hanging around out back.
With the alien children/young adults in the kitchen and the "amore de mi
vida" up in the boudoir, my hypermasculine protective instincts took over
and I went as straight as I could across the street, saying something like
"OK, time to move along... There are no beautiful women around here worth
molesting, and I've only got $30 left in my pocket. Let's move it! Rouse,
Rouse!" Well, that went over like porchetta at a vegetarian bat mitsvah.
I even tried my Obi Wan Kenobi "these aren't the 'droids you're looking
for" move and it completely failed. They stood up to me as if they were
hardened criminals or something. When the little guy with the
funny-lookin' hair said "I am a five-time convicted felon with bipolar
disorder and I live down Armstrong," I thought "well, THAT explains a few
things..."
He was quite mellow, actually; it was the other guy with funnier-lookin'
hair who was the more perturbed one. He said something like "Wherever we
go, someone kicks us out. Are you a cop? Are you the manager? Then shut
up." I breathed on him as much as I could without being obvious, and
eventually that mellowed him out. It turns out he's homeless. I said,
"You sure have nice clothes for being homeless," because he looked quite
dapper and generally pleasing to the eye.
"Joseph's Coat. We need to look as good as possible so people don't abuse
us." That reminded me of the kids stoning the napping bum and I relayed
that story to them. He was also a felon, it turns out, and I seem to
recall asking something like "for crimes against property, right, hee,
hee?" They told me about how when people get out of jail/prison, they have
a certain set of clothes on and $100, so they always get hit up for money
by those who know this fact. We talked about who gets raped and who
doesn't, what the job situation is like for them now, where the one guy
might sleep tonight, etc. I thought about telling them I'd been in jail
for 4 hours once, but didn't want to come across as being too buddy-buddy.
My killer instincts soon took on more of a maternal bent, and I started to
worry that I might start crying or freaking out or suddenly need a new pair
of shoes. If I still lived at Hine's Halfway House For Wayward Men, I
would've taken them in for a cup of tea and some chocolate-covered
digestives, but I was not drunk enough to forget that that probably would
not be a very popular move with the girls, being as low on ammunition as we
are. So I said to my new friends, "Do you want me to get the mayor down
here so you can talk to him? Or my City Councilman? Or a reporter or
something?" Somehow I managed to refrain from saying I was the Prince of
Cullen Park or some dumb thing, which has been known to happen.
"What do they taste like?" the five-timer with funny-lookin' hair said.
No, actually he said something like "Sure, I suppose." The tall, dark,
handsome one was by now half-drunk and simply nodded at me. I apologized
profusely without looking like a girl, although, did I mention I had been
drinking? They didn't kill me or even appear to want to stab me at all,
nor take my money. They didn't even ask me for anything more than a little
respect. This induced a major attack of Brit Guilt (still no known cure)
and I humbly blubbered and lurched my way back home. So they wouldn't see
which house I went into, I made myself invisible before I went up the
steps.
These were the same two guys, I realized at one point, who I had seen
puttering down the street at 15 mph on an antique moped. They will be easy
to find again, so if you are a mayor or a city councilperson or a reporter
and would like to meet them, I am their self-appointed agent. If you are
not interested in meeting them but would like to invest in my "Homeless
Like Me" book and movie deal, send me $100 in unmarked Sacagaweas. We need
to get this project off the ground before these homeless people disappear
once and for all.
Who's in? I just heard something about 1,000 Points of Light or 1,000 Jobs
or something... do they take homeless felons, and schizophrenic ones? If
these guys could just save up $450, they could buy a square foot of space
in the brewery! The guy with funnier-lookin' hair might've had feet longer
than 12" so he'd stick out of his square foot, unless of course they sell
them in rectangular 9"x16" lot sizes.
AMH
DCCLVII ARMSTRONG AVENVE
Andrew M. Hine
Corporate Research Materials Laboratory
3M Center 201-1W-28
St. Paul MN
55144-1000
USA
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
Tel: (651) 733-1070
Fax: (651) 737-5335
Lab 201-W110
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