Before I tell another Larry story, let
me talk a bit more about Mr. McCoy. He is a pretty great guy. I don't
know if I could have a bigger advocate for me in the unemployment
office that doesn't feel like an unemployment office.
He is also a poster-child for the
pretty libertarian ideas out here. Whenever he mentioned living in
San Diego, he mentioned he had to leave he made mention of Tijuana
and explained, “because trash blows up against the fence.” He
clarified that he meant actual waste poured into the Pacific Ocean by
Tijuana, but it didn't dispel the “dirty immigrants” implications
of his initial station.
I also reordered a copy of my DD214. I
have a scanned copy, but Daryl told me that a new copy would be
better to have on hand. I don't think he's wrong and McCoy was the
guy to get it for me. He was reluctant to have it sent to Purgatory
Shelter though. Very reluctant.
We need a word that means, “eventually
just shy of eventually,” or “right before the end.” Because it
was at that stage in our conversation that he relented and agreed to
send it there. However, when I finally checked my email on Wednesday,
I saw that he had changed his mind.
I've never had a problem getting mail
here. Writing this up a week later I'm still waiting for my Safelink
phone, but that's not a receipt problem. Look, we're a bunch of
homeless dudes, but we're just guys living in a rough circumstance.
This isn't a den of thieves. This isn't Lord of the Flies.
Sure, some guys are getting past drug problems and occasionally we'll
get a guy who isn't past them. Sometimes, we'll get folks with
intense mental problems. There are some problems here, but Purgatory
House is a good place with good people in it.
I don't know if Mr. McCoy's problem
comes from a personal experience or an ugly bigotry against the
homeless who aren't of the anointed military caste, but his actions
are a repulsive mark on an otherwise impressive and warm character.
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