The courthouse was on the way to my most important stop, the
Mental Health Office. I already went over it before, but I do want to impress
upon you how nice everyone there was. A lady noticed that I used the word
“y’all” and I confessed to being from Texas. I can’t overstate how much it
meant to me, feeling broke and vulnerable, to have someone notice me as a
person. It wasn’t just her. The folks at the local helping people find employment office, the Food Stamp Place, and even the DMV were really nice.
That the Thrift Store people and my case worker are a bit more
abrupt doesn’t seem so bad.
I also saw a fellow resident at the Mental Health Office. I
won’t even give him a made-up name. We shared a few words, had some small talk,
and that was it. None the less, he’s a good guy and I’m glad he’s getting help
too.
I wouldn’t have pegged him as someone who really needed
counseling, but then you can never tell these things about folks just by
looking at them.
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