Day One Hundred and Two

  ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS**

In the morning I walk from shelter to breakfast alone. As I'm minding my own business the guy walking in front of me looks back. I think he kind of looks familiar. He keeps looking back and it's the confused face he's making that gives away who he is. Oh shit. It's... I start to think and he yells, "hey!" I seriously regret not doing my make up this morning.

We originally met seven years ago when I was thirteen and he was sixteen. I was in a rough patch then with family problems way beyond a thirteen year old's comprehension. He had come down to my town on a missions trip with his church. He and I happened to be at the same park at the same time and happened to form a really strange best friend relationship. His father had abandoned him; he had thought he was dead until when he was ten his dad showed up trying to have a relationship with him. This didn't go over well as I'm sure you can guess.

He called me his little sister. We talked weekly if not daily. He was the one I called when I got heart broken. He was the one I made boyfriends go through for approval. He was the one I went to for advice. Once when he was struggling with his girlfriend troubles (I was also dearly attached to her) I asked him, "Do you love her?" He told me something I'll never forget, "Love is a choice, not an emotion. It's your actions not your feelings." I took those words to heart for a long time. I trusted him with everything. He was my only friend that ever met my father. He was a huge part of my life.

If I were being honest I'd say that he was more to me than that. But, I'm not feeling that honest today.

When I was sixteen I was in and out of the mental hospital, trying to get away from my abusive mother any way I could. He used to call me at two or three in the morning when he got off work and talk to me on his drive home. I'd be laying in bed, often talking in my sleep to him. Then as things got to get sticky with my first time being homeless and my mother and everything he started calling less and less. The last time we talked during that period I had called him from the hospital pay phone.

"Is this going to be your thing now?" he asked me, "This is what you're going to do with your life?"

We didn't speak again for almost two years. Another mutual friend forced me to reconnect with him. When we spoke after I moved to Oregon he said, "I'm sorry I ditched you like that. It was just too much to deal with when I was going through my break up." (The break up was with a new girlfriend). His apology stung. I wish I could just decide that I didn't want to deal with homelessness and walk away from it but I don't have that luxury. Never have.

We stayed friends for about a year after this. I met his girlfriend who was ridiculously mean to me. I got stressed out when I talked to him; he was judgmental which was completely different from the Leo I used to know. The final straw was when I took a mental health day instead of looking for a job after a week of trying. He chewed me out for taking that one day break. I told him not to call me again. So he didn't. We haven't spoken since and that was three years ago. I think he may have been the first guy to ever crush me.

So I'm more than a little surprised to see him again. He hugs me and it's awkward how un-awkward it is for us just to fall back into step, talking with each other as if we just saw one another yesterday. He's married now but I already knew that. It was right before his wedding that I deleted him from Facebook. I couldn't stomach the thought that he married that girl that came into the picture and destroyed our friendship. Destroyed who he used to be.

He asks me what I'm doing in downtown. I decide not to lie. I tell the truth. I lost him a long time ago; there is nothing left to lose now. With so much time passed I'm indifferent to him now. I don't feel the need to impress him. Seeing as the first time I was homeless he went running away I'm not expecting this to be a reunion that rebirths an old friendship. I deserve better friends in my life than ones who run away the moment things get tough. I may have my faults but I know I'm a better friend than that and I deserve the same.

"What are you doing in downtown?" I ask him.
"I got a job in downtown. I work for a nonprofit. I help adults who..." Either he trails off or I stop listening because I could not for the life of me tell you what he does with adults. I'm actually really proud of him though. In all the years I've known him he's always said he wanted to work for nonprofits. Him accomplishing this means that he still kept a little piece of the version of him that I knew alive.

I walk him to work. He asks for my phone number and says that it's been "too long" and we should talk more. I don't expect him to call me or see me again when I walk away. I don't think a homeless "little sister" fits quite into his plan of a pretty little life with his pretty little wife. Maybe if I was still religious and housed we'd be friends still but I don't fit his ideal of me anymore just like he doesn't fit my ideal version of him for me anymore. The last thing I need is one more person in my life that is just going to walk away when I need them.

I shake off this unusual encounter to go to breakfast and get bus passes. I head to the dentist to get my tooth packed again. When I get there they make me wait for two hours even though there's no one in front of me and my tooth only takes ten seconds. I ask the lady at the front desk what's going on and she refuses to give me a general time frame of how long this is going to take. I ask if I can be scheduled to come in later and she refuses to do so. She talks down to me as if I'm a little kid. I hate when people do this to me. Just because I look young doesn't mean I'm going to let you patronize me.

The staff behind the desk start calling me a brat telling me I just don't want to wait my turn. I say I'd be okay with waiting if I got a general time frame but I can't be held hostage for hours over something that takes two seconds. They threaten to call the police on me after I say I'm leaving. I walk out without getting my tooth fixed. No amount of pain is going to justify this kind of treatment. I'm so sick of the way people treat me because of their own ageism.

Today it's a little too much to handle. When I get to the bus stop and sit down  I can't help it I start crying. I can't help myself for about thirty seconds then I force myself to stop. There is no reason to act like a baby just because my tooth helps and no one will help me.

I go back to the day program #1 and rant about the tooth fiasco. Mother Goose asks me if I want to sleep. I do just want to sleep off the oddness of the day. She puts me in an office where I lay down and watch The Little Mermaid until I pass out. I get up before lunch to heat up some soup which I eat hiding in the office. Shortly before dinner I leave and go to the library but I feel claustrophobic. With my morning company I'm feeling trapped in this small city. I call up Savior Man. He's about to go grocery shopping so I ask to join him.

At the grocery store I ask if I could grab a pizza to cook Savior Man and his roommates. I would really like fresh pizza. "I totally would," he tells me, "But, my roommate has a problem with you."
This is news to me, "What did I do to him?"
"Nothing. He just hates homeless people. I had to convince him that you didn't steal his cigarettes because he lost them like a week after you came over one time."

I try not to show it but I'm stung. In the big picture it doesn't matter what his roommate thinks of me but right now it matters. His opinion of me means I can't see my cat anytime he's home. It means I can't just come over and see Savior Man. It means that people truly have the idea that because I'm homeless I'm less of a person.

I head back to downtown. On my way into shelter I pass some guys standing outside of a hole in the wall pizza shop. They ask me how I'm doing so I say I'm okay. As I'm walking away I turn around and say, "Tell you a joke for a slice of pizza?" I'm surprised when the guy obliges and for the first time in 102 days I eat a fresh, hot slice of not cardboard pizza. It's like Heaven.

Maybe in normal circumstances a slice of pizza wouldn't be enough to unravel the heart ache that comes from a close friend's rejection, a bad tooth and a mean roommate but for me right now it's enough. I still got the pizza I wanted. I feel remarkably better when I arrive at shelter. I sign up for dishes and burn a cd until it's time to go downstairs.

As I'm getting ready for dishes Nazi Man and Blue Eyes from downstairs staff are in my kitchen causing trouble. Blue Eyes splashes Nazi Man with water and runs past me, out of the kitchen. Nazi Man takes the  hose out of the sink and tries to spray Blue Eyes but sprays me instead.

"You asshole!" I scream but I'm laughing.
"I'm so, so sorry. You can spray me if you want."
"That's water abuse. That's a BLA!"
"I'm so sorry," he keeps saying but neither of us can keep a straight face.

Blue Eyes comes in later to bring in more dishes. I already have my dishes organized so I yell at him when he almost puts a bowl with my plates. He apologizes and puts the bowl where it belongs. I give him shit for "starting trouble in my kitchen". Fuck You by Lily Allen starts playing on my cd. "This song is how I feel about you right now." I tell him.
"If I responded to that I'd be fired," he says.

I can always count on downstairs staff to leave me laughing before bed on a bad day. I think I might actually kind of miss them when I'm gone.

--mm