Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about the hashtag.

Good afternoon folks...let's play catch-up, shall we? It's been one hell of a week since I last typed in this little input box.

So I left McDonalds last week and set out on my very first night of street livin'. Homelessness to the core. Only, well, I cheated. Around 11:30pm or so, I hit a 24-hour restaurant that has free wi-fi and ordered a cup of coffee. I stayed there (bless them) for about 12 hours. I was ridiculously jacked on caffeine. Grand total spent (including tip): $3.

Tuesday afternoon I wandered over to a large area park. I took in some nature, read a little, wrote a little, pondered some, and then the exhaustion hit me around 4pm. I gathered my belongings, sat down against a shady tree, and dozed off. I dreamt. I was where I was, thinking I was near Ralph Wilson Stadium however (which isn't nearly that close), and I was wandering the streets looking for friends and the stadium because there was a game and I was going. The only parallels? The park I was at was a block away from Lake St. in Lancaster, and the stadium is near Lake St. in Orchard Park/Blasdell/Hamburg. I awoke finally, somewhat confused.

And then I realized most everything I had with me was stolen while I slept. All I had left was a shopping back with a shirt, khakis and some toiletries. Gone were my laptop and my backpack. The backpack had my iPod, phone charger, medical info, medications, work-related info, more clothes and toiletries, most recent mail from the beginning of summer, a notebook of everything I'd written over the summer, some reading materials, and, well, pretty much everything I own. Even the $14 state tax return check I'd asked a certain female to cash for me on her next trip to the bank many months ago, but she never did. As if I like very few people these days as it is and trust even less of them, it just goes to show that no matter how sunny of a disposition you can slide over your madface, fools are always out to steal your joy. And your shit too. And that damn $14 would've come in handy this week, that's for damn sure.

As it began to get dark, I was at a crossroad. I went into one of the park's picnic shelters, crawled under some table/shelf contraption, and went back to sleep, using just my last bag as a pillow. I don't recommend that, folks...plastic bags are neither toys nor pillows. I woke up around 3am-ish, facing a chilly breeze as I stood, awaiting my next set of moves.

I decided to slash legs over to the 24-hour grocery store in a shopping plaza, down the road about 25 minutes or so in walking time. At least I wasn't lugging so much around with me this time. Outside of the store they have a bench, so I rested a few minutes. Or until it started sprinkling, or I had to go to the bathroom, or some combination of both. I did my thing, wandered around for a few minutes, and sat down with a free weekly paper on the bench they've got inside the lobby. Dozed off again, only to be woken by "SECURITY!! To the front lobby!" blasting over the loudspeakers as a janitor tapped me on the foot with his broom and said, "Hey, you gotta go...I'll get in trouble if you're here." Ahhh, Tops Friendly Markets...we hardly knew ye.

And back out I went. I tried the bench outside again, but it was still sprinkling. I realized there was a laundromat in the same plaza. I tried the doors and as luck would have it, it was open. Conveniently enough, four chairs side-by-side do a nice bed make for this kid. Got about as decent of a three hour nap as one could hope for in a place where people use washers and dryers.

From there I decided to retrace my steps back at the park. From the entrance, to the bridge I was sitting at, to the creek, to the tree, to the shelter. No luck. I decided to find the park's office. Which, of course, was damn near all the way on the other side of the freakin' park. And this ain't no playground y'all. I'm talkin' shelters, nature trails, roads, a disc golf course, joggers, and all that. It's probably a half-hour walk from one end to the other, easily.

Found the log-cabined complex that served as the hub of the park's operations. This dude comes out and asks me if I need help. I explain my situation and says he really can't help, but takes my name and number just in case. Turns out I worked with the guy about 15 years ago at a now-closed sporting goods store, and a few years later his dad would become a customer of mine when I worked in electronics retail. Great guy, lots of fun to work with. A nice moment tucked in what's otherwise a tightly wound-up ball of WTF. So back out I went. Stopped and dropped my last $.50 on a bag of chili Fritos and made it to the library.

Spent some time there trying to sort through some options. I resigned myself to head back to the City Mission, if space was available. Lucky me had just enough points on my Subway card for a 6" sub and a cookie, so I got a hold of DMFM to meet up and plan what's next. And as I figured, the mission was full for the night.

I wound up going to a "drop-in center". They have no beds, just chairs around tables. No tv, very little to eat, and the lowest of the lowest members of society. When the places that take people with noplace else to go can't take anyone else, this is where they end up. And in the morning, time to get down to business.

I barely slept, even after taking an OTC sleep aid. In the morning I followed a few people over to the City Mission just for a warm breakfast before heading down to situate me some emergency benefits. And I thought I knew where I was going, but wrong turns love to sneak up on me and snatch me from the path. After a few quick lefts, I figured out where I was headed. For anyone who goes downtown and figures that the taller the buildings are should mean the closer you are, some advice: churches can mislead you if you use this tactic.

About 75% of my time spent in a county building on Wednesday was spent being given the runaround, but I did manage to secure a week's stay at the City Mission. Fuckin' beats trying to sleep on the streets. Three hots and a cot...and after a night I actually got checked in this time and given a bunk. I'm sleepin' closer to a ceiling than a floor for the first time since I was probably 10 years old.

I'm not gonna lie...being homeless sucks. I'm trying to make the best of it. I'm trying not to get caught up in the why's and how's and all of that shit. I'm trying to keep my chin up and get things the way I need them to be to get back on track, even though the track seems like it's one big giant effing circle most of the time.

Part of the way I amuse myself these days is by making light of it without fully embracing it in such a way that makes it seem like this is how I want to live. I've taken to Twitter a lot more recently (@Fivesixer) everytime something happens that I feel like saying something about, and then hashtagging it with #homelessguyproblems. Because fuck it, if I can't at least get myself to laugh a little at this (and believe me, laughs are few and far between up in this), I'll definitely drive myself batshit crazy over this. As if this situation isn't already.

And the tweets have gotten a few responses here and there. Too bad my phone's Facebook app doesn't care to notify my when I've got a new inbox message...I don't give a righteous eff you see kay about who said what in some discussion group I don't even remember signing up for; I want to know when people are actually attempting to communicate with me, dammit!!

So anyway, that's where I'm at now. Hopefully in a few days, I'll have some better news.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

So while I was wasting 12 hours in a restaurant watching Facebook, Twitter, ESPN.com and the likes, I streamed their new album, and I absolutely love it. It's part of where I need to be...

VITAL STATS:

It's impossible for it to get worse, right? I stopped back at the Mission this afternoon for lunch, checked my Facebook, and it was hacked. Someone posted a status under my name saying I was hacked. Effing lovely. Who the hell knows what's going on now.

I met a really nice guy out here. Seems nice, at least. Little older, from the south. Always bums me a smoke once in awhile. One of the few I make small talk with in this place. He made his plans, asked me what I was doing, and decided to follow me along to the library. Said he was gonna have some cash this afternoon if things worked out, and he'd take me to lunch. Fair enough, I thought...he's just lookin' out for someone younger and not too sure of what's going on right now. Then he says he wants to get a hotel room (he's expecting a small windfall I guess). And I'm thinking nothing of it as we're walking over to Tim Horton's, where he offers to buy me a coffee on the way to his bus stop. He tells me to meet him around 1pm to figure things out, so I say sure. And then he tells me he's got a confession to make...he thinks I'm really cute. Holdupwaitaminute.... now, I'm all for equality and homosexuality and dudes likin' up on dudes and chicks lovin' up on chicks, but your boy over on this side of the computer screen flies strictly hetero, ya dig? I dodged a bullet, as he was not where he said he'd be at 1pm (I swear, I was only waitin' on a cigarette). Now I have to wonder what this dude's intentions really are...he kinda made himself out to be a ladies' man of sorts, but, ummmm....uhhhh....ahhhh, yeah. That's a little weird. But I suppose I should be flattered, I guess.

And that's it for today. Not sure when I'll be back around, but it'll be sooner rather than later. Got an idea or two up my sleeve along with some appointments and research and other things I've got on my paper plate the next few days, so we'll see what happens. Y'all be good to each other and yourselves out there. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!