1
--based on its proximity to the park and because it had a website. That's it!
This place has individual shower stalls. I only got soap, but they do issue hygiene gear. They were out when I arrived, but they issue bus passes. I have a free place to stay and limited internet access to find a job. There are standards of behavior that my fellow homeless people are held to so there's no shouting or fighting and everyone takes showers and stays focused on finding work.
It's a really great--
2
--place.
But there is a downside. It's full of a bunch of dudes. Now that doesn't mean it's inevitable. I hung out with plenty of guys on barges offshore and this kind of thing doesn't happen. Homelessness is definitely a factor here. Bravos. Animals. Silence. Mumblrs. I've seen all of 'em doing it.
It's like...oh yeah, the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles. I just doesn't fucking stop unless you leave the--
3
--building. Each of those numbers is someone burping or farting since I started writing this. I type seventy-five words a minute. Luckily, I'm in the dining area, which like holy ground where farts are concerned, but that last one was a loud, open-mouthed burp in the kitchen. I was Mike-Mark. One of the bravos.
The night I got here, there was a guy, “T,” and he did nothing but fart peanut butter farts all night. Seriously, one of them woke up everyone in the room in the middle of the night. It was fucking heinous.
My roommate has SSI, an iPad, and no compulsions to get out of bed for anything short of cupcakes or a full-on stop at the restroom. It's a problem.
Look, we've all got gas. I get it. Occasionally, one will slip out. All I really ask for is a covered mouth--
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--that was a fart. I'm not making it up. It was a quacker.
So all I'm really asking for is a covered mouth. Maybe an “excuse me.”
Or hey, if it's not too much to ask, a job where I don't have to live with twenty guys all at once.
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