This is the fifth installment of my wildly popular sitcom, Life in the Homeless Shelter!
Life in the Homeless Shelter, Part 2
Life in the Homeless Shelter, Part 3
Life in the Homeless Shelter, Part 4
Yesterday had to be the best day at the homeless shelter, yet.
Remember Tim hitting Tom in the leg with the broom handle?
Last night Tim was escorted from the place by two police officers.
Here’s what happened: Tim left the dorm area for a while and when he came back his locker door was open. The guy in his top bunk had the locker next to his and was standing by the locker. So, it was on. Tim accused the guy of going through his locker and started yelling. All the guys around tried to cool him off, but he refused and kept yelling that he was going to kick some ass and he didn’t have to stand for it and, “dude shouldn’t be fuckin’ wit’ [his] chit.”
This went on for a few minutes and then the assistant shelter manager was brought back. Some time passed. Then they got the shelter manager (who was off duty, but lives in an apartment in the building). And then they called the cops.
Tim and Tom were both upset to begin with because they found out earlier that evening that their uncle had died.
Tim caught a ride to Oklahoma City where he is living with some friends. I’m glad Tom didn’t go with him. They were getting on each other’s nerves. Plus, Tom said, there’s all sorts of bad things going on in the city. I think he was referring to their old gang being into drugs.
Now that morning, George returned from getting ready for work and found his cell phone and flashlight were missing from his bed. He asked everyone about it and the assistant shelter manager searched everyone with a metal detector, but it wasn’t found.
And that night I saw some drunken cowboy trying to drive his truck over a median in a parking lot. He eventually got a good run at it and bounced over. I’m sure a “yee-haw” could have been heard inside the cab, but I was too far away.
There was something going on with the stars (or the atmosphere) last night. One of the planets was twinkling in colors. I was seeing red and green and blue twinkles. I assumed it was a plane, but I’ve never seen planes blinking like that. Plus, the light never moved except for the natural apparent movement from the rotation of the Earth over 15 minutes.
We have several new guys in the shelter.
We now have a short Mongolian guy staying with us who is about 55. I’ll call him Khan. Khan mumbles out loud in some Mongolic language all the time. If you ask him how he’s doing he says, “I’m fine,” in pretty good English. This morning he asked if it was Monday. I told him it was Saturday. He went back to mumbling.
Last night George returned late from work and went back to find Khan sleeping in his bed. Khan was supposed to be sleeping in the bunk above George, but Khan decided he didn’t want to sleep up there because he would fall off. We told him he had to move anyway, but he just looked at us. The doors out of the dorm and lounge part of the shelter were already locked so we couldn’t get the assistant shelter manager (his apartment is on the ladies’ side). We had to wake up the shelter manager. The shelter manager told Khan he had to move, so Khan said he would leave. The manager said do what you want, but you have to move. But, luckily, Tim had vacated a lower bunk just hours before. Problem solved.
Before bedtime, I went back to take a shower and found my towel was all wet. This grossed me a out a little, so I started asking who had used my towel. Another new guy, Frank, who was lying in the bunk above mine said that was his towel. So I asked what happened to my towel which had been hanging there for two months (YES, I’ve washed it… at least once). He said there wasn’t a towel there. He said there was a clean, folded towel laying on his bunk though (which obviously was the towel issued to him, my brain said). I asked where the clean towel was and he said one of the other guys wanted it, so it was given to him.
Ok, fine. I went to get another towel and, guess what, no large towels. So, I now have a dish washing towel. I doubt anyone is going to take this one.
Before lights out Frank said he knew what happened to my towel. When the ruckus was started by Tim about his locker, the kid helping the assistant shelter manager, Randy, told everyone to get out of the dorm. Frank said he needed his towel and Randy went back in to get it. I guess Randy grabbed mine.
Randy is a kid who helps out on the weekends as a volunteer. He’s about 20 and he sometimes pisses people off, being bossy in a way that overcompensates for him being so young. It used to piss me off a bit. One time after dinner he walked outside and yelled, “All shelter residents inside the kitchen to help with the dishes!” And I just stood there. He said, “Come on.” And I said, “What’s the magic word?” Randy smiled and said, “Please!”
Randy has kind of a rough story. His family is very poor and depends on social security checks or some sort of assistance. The day he turned 18 his mother told him to get his stuff and leave the house. You see, when your kid turns 18, you no longer receive additional money to support him.
Randy came to the shelter and the guys there helped him out. They had him checked out by a doctor and it turns out he’s slightly autistic. They helped him apply for social security disability and he got it. They helped him find a place to live. They got him enrolled in a school. He is graduating from high school this month.
I was told that when his mother heard Randy was getting a check she wanted him to move back in with her and his father. He didn’t, of course. I hope he gave her the finger.
On the weekends, Randy sleeps on the couch in the lounge.
Last night Mary showed up drunker than a skunk (which is easy, because skunks don’t drink alcohol). She was stumbling and saying all sorts of nonsense. As required of all residents, she went to our 12-Step Meeting. She talked throughout the beginning of the meeting and then I noticed one of the guys took her outside. She didn’t return to the meeting.
At 9pm devotion she announced that she wanted some jalapeños to put on her food. We told her we didn’t have any in the pantry. She started asking each of us if we had some like perhaps one might have had a jar hidden and were holding out on her. She got a little frustrated and then pulled out a $5 bill and tried to buy some from us.
After devotion she was outside smoking a cigarette and announced that she had $5 and that we should all leave and go buy a pint.
Can you buy a pint of liquor for $5?
Don’t answer that.
Leave a Reply