Approaching the garbage can on the pavement I have this thought, “If I throw this away that homeless guy (Homey) is going to stop me and ask for money.” I’m right. Homey wants a cigarette so I give him two and ask if he needs a light. He assures me he has a light so I start to head off towards my original destination which is a Boston-style fish restaurant in East Nashville, almost directly across the street from Homey.
At the curb I hear Homey calling me again. I turn around and he asks me for two dollars and a quarter. “I’m alcoholic.” he pronounces and I tell him I can give him three dollars but that’s all. Homey asks me what my name is and I tell him, “Tim”. He sort of smiles and introduces himself, extending his hand for a shake, but I don’t catch his name. I’m too worried about the fact that my hand is now firmly clasped by his. I’m thinking, “When’s the last time Homey washed his hands? No offence guy but I can feel the germs crawling on me.”
I guess Homey doesn’t get to talk to a lot of people so the handshake becomes a handhold and I am his captive audience for a few minutes. “Germs are proceeding up my arm to my elbow now.” He tells me he had a son who died at the age of 27 who I remind him of. He asks me where I’m from and tells me all the places he’s lived. The whole time I’m in this uncommitted sideways stance, trying to keep my body facing the restaurant and my head listening to Homey.
I’m finally able to catch a break in the conversation and I tell Homey I’m going to head across the street now. He looks at me and says, “It’ll come back to you..”. I’m still thinking about the germy handshake but I also wonder if he means that the three dollars will come back or the fact that I stopped to talk to him. Sitting at the bar a few minutes later (germs washed off in the bathroom) I order a shrimp basket and think about getting one for Homey but I look across the street and he and his shopping cart are gone. I guess he scurried off to get that alcohol.
So I’m watching a baseball game and eating my fried shrimp (which were awesome) and thinking about homeless people and wondering if maybe Homey was actually an angel. I’m feeling a little lonely (as one does when eating alone) but probably not as lonely as Homey….
Monday, April 27, 2009
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I appreciate your sensitivity. Thanks for caring enough to give a little.
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