Story time….
So, this one time, I was walking to the gym, I am not certain but it seems like it may have been a bit chilly that day, and I had on a jacket, dressed in my usual docker-esque business casual pants and shoes, with my backpack. I had just been at one of our other buildings across the street working on a printer, and in order to get back to 4th street from there, you have to walk toward the sherriff’s dept and across a little bridge that spans church street (the dead end street where the big Moravian church that we explored that time is at the end), so I’m finishing my trek on the church street bridge, getting ready to turn on to 4th street and make my way to the gym. My iPhone in hand, I am answering emails when I hear “did you come from the bridge”? I barely heard it b/c like I said, I was answering work email on my phone. It came again – “did you come from at the bridge”? I looked up, blank, puzzled look on my face, remembering the words I barely heard, hearing them play back in my mind. I stood there, mouth agape, literally speechless. A quite round, dirty looking woman with long stringy hair was looking at me dead in the eyes. I was walking over to her so I could hear her better b/c the wind was blowing, as it always is down there. I stammered and spoke bits and pieces of words, never really saying anything, she then put to me the strangest question I have ever been asked. “do you live in a house.” I have been knocked out of my own conscious mind. As you may know, and can relate, on a CONSTANT, DAILY basis my mind, and I’m willing to bet, yours too, works. Nonstop, thinking of all kinds of things. Everything from the surreal to the sublime to the mundane and the unimaginable… There are categories, sub categories, chapters, shelves, levels, hills, valleys, ledges, stoops – all of which contain various amounts of a myriad of information, everything from “what to do in any given situation” to “just what color is puce anyway”. Well, I figured the area with “what to do in any given situation” was pretty full, unfortunately so – it is so full that most often what –a situation – comes up, you only get to that part of the knowledge after the fact. I am pretty certain however, that nowhere in that containment of knowledge is there anything on how to respond when asked “do you live in a house”. It’s so blatant and blunt, the obvious “yes” can absolutely not be the correct answer. That must not be what they are looking for, so the impulse to inquire for more, to dig a bit deeper overpowers me – “how do you mean” I said. “I mean not now, obviously, as I am walking to the gym, but today, this evening, when I leave work, I will drive to my home, which is not here. Yes.” That was my reply. It may have been the most awkward collection of words and letters ever to form a partial thought. It hurt me to say it, so bumpy was the continuity. As the initial shock of her inquires wore off, and mild embarrassment of my inarticulate response wore off, I realized, she thinks I am homeless. I look back from whence I came – apparently just off church street, but still technically under that bridge, is an area often populated by groups of homeless people. I look down at my phone, at the jacket I am wearing that has “Nissan” on it, at my shoes, my pants – now I am not the type to needlessly spend money on a wardrobe whose purpose it is to make a statement, clothes that meet the need are just fine with me. But still, what I wear is a FAR cry from homeless clothes. My mind is literally screaming “HOW MANY HOMELESS PEOPLE DO YOU KNOW WITH A FREAKIN IPHONE”? At this point, she may have sensed my state of mind, though I doubt it because I think I have already proved that her sentient awareness is no so strong, regardless, for whatever reason, she apologized for bothering me, turned and trundled off.
I turned, still stunned and continued on to the gym. I don’t have a problem with homeless people. I even give them money when they ask, and I have it to give. My annoyance wasn’t with her as a homeless person, it was with her level of obliviousness. Her lack of attention to detail. Naturally, in less than a nanosecond I automatically associated her level of ignorance with all people (Kindred excluded, of course) just look – observe, notice your surroundings – THEN you can formulate opinions and pose intelligent questions, as opposed to “do you live in a house”
