Walking Downtown

Yesterday at the #cutegirlrestaurant I volunteered to "ask" a bum to leave the front of the restaurant. The very nice girls at the restaurant attempted to do it first and were very nice to him "sir, these chairs are for customers only, if you would like to order something we would be glad to help you." Scummy dirt face grabbed a menu and went outside...to continue talking to himself and deff not reading the menu. I've never been altruistic to bums...I have always had a job (and i take my Prozac). "I work for my beer a cigarettes."

I took it upon myself to do something. "Hey, get the fuck outta here." He became angry at me and started yelling. "I'll tell you something..." I cut him off,"Shut the fuck up, I don't want to debate with you." It only made him angrier and he didn't leave. I went back inside.

"F" was already on the phone with the nonemergency police. All the customers stopped eating their breakfast and watched...and watched. I had made the situation worse, but because everyone is so nice here (unlike myself), they didn't trip. After about 15 minutes, scummy dirt face walked away, before the police arrived, and last I saw him he was walking down the street screaming heading downtown.

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My self imposed sabbatical is both relaxing and nerve racking at the same time. I just can't work right now. If I could I would, right. Afterall that is what I've always done. It is really super weirdo to not have anything to do all day. It seems the only thing to do (when I'm not drinking) is watch the colors of the leaves change (even tho it's hella cold outside) and then fall to their decomposing winter-y death. If it seems like a time consuming endeavor, it is; but seemingly right now...I have nothing but time. Strange, strange times indeed.

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I've been doing a lot of walking. I can walk from home all the way to Old Sacramento, watch the super-killer ice cold Lake Tahoe water as it journeys to the Bay Area. Funny thing, as soon as I get there, I leave. There are scattered dirty scum face bums there that also have nothing but time to kill. They are watching the water also. Some try and start a conversation and/or bum a smoke, but I just blow them off. Some look contemplative and some have dead eyes as they look at the dark water swirling and churning to the Bay, carriyng with it debris that sometimes looks like life. I used to love sitting by the river, watching water go under the bridge, but I can't stand it now. After mere moments I put my backpack on and walk some more.

A holiday shopper with child walks by and the kid says "look at those homeless people mommy." "Be quiet (insert name of child here), "but the kid is not quiet and keeps pointing in our direction. I know he's not talking about me...my face is clean.

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All the leads are turning to NOT. Now I'm hitting up friends of friends. If it comes down to it, I'll send an SOS out on Twitter. I would totally rely on strangers right now for help, totally (I'm not there yet, tho). One peep I FB'd wanted to help, but couldn't, then mentioned that I had been a jerk to her several times in the past, but she forgives me. I didn't write her back.

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"Dude.""Hey, was' up "S".

"Heading down to the protest. Wanna come."

"I got nothing going on."

We get into his jalopy and I meet his peeps. He is fresh faced and passionate and talks about his involvement with the #OWS movement. The others in the car are equally passionate and soon everyone is talking at the same time, except for me.

I was a teenage puckrocker and even when I started dressing like a New Waver, then hippie, then raver...etc...I still held punk rock sensibilities in my heart. The difference between then and now is that the 80's was a "me generation." It was not until circumstances this year where I have been forced to get a valid I.D.. If I didn't have to do that, then I'd be totally off the grid still: no bank account, no bills in my name, nothing in my name, no phone, no attachments, no nothing.

All this talk of 99% bores me. We used to rage about this shit in the 80's and nothing has changed. In fact, it seems that it has only gotten worse and worse. I'm at least 20 years older than everyone in the car. I want to get out, but that would mean more walking and these shoes I got for free are uncomfortable. These kids are kinda stinky, not bum stinky but 20 something stinky, like, I slept in these clothes last night in my parents house and I chose to not take a shower today stinky. We pull up to the park and they scan for the police and their peeps. We get a really good parking space and get out.

"Thanks for the ride."

"We're all in it together, bro."

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There are all kinds of people here: old, young, rich, poor. There are also many dirty stinky faced bums, drinking outta bags and rerolling cigarette buts they have collected on their journeys. Dam, I wanna fucking beer and cigarette. I guess I'm no better than anyone else. I walk thru the crowd(s).

They are doing that microphone thing where one person says something, and then everyone else repeats it. I want to get up there and say, "Kriss needs a beer and a cigarette (KRISS NEEDS A  BEER AND A CIGARETTE.), but even I wouldn't do something like that...sober. There are drummers, people holding signs and a media presence. I over hear many things, "I've worked hard all my life...I couldn't keep up with those payments...this isn't fair....what am I going to do..." A mother holds her child (looks like 3y/o to me) as she talks to a reporter, "What is my baby going to do? What kind of future will she have." The reporter furiously scribbles notes on a pad.

I really wanted a cigarette so I just asked the first person I saw smoking. "Hey dude, can I get one of those." It was stinky bum face from the restaurant earlier. He didn't recognize me and very casually gave me a smoke. I could see that he only had one left for himself. I probably would not give my second to last cigarette to a stranger, or even a friend-I'm an asshole like that.

"Thanks, bro."

It was delicious but I only smoked half of it. I put it out with my fingers and wiped my face. "S" emerged from the crowd. He was strong looking and still as fresh faced and youthful as he was in the car. As he passed me on the way to his destination, "Kriss, you have ash or something on your face."

Now my face is dirty also. Fuck.