It was a sort of ritual now. Each day I found myself under the same bridge, smoked the same tobacco and saw the same light. Some days,this light was bright and others it would just barely shine over my inadequacies. This light was one of the brighter ones. Seeing that man reminded me of my own past. During my first year on the streets I was the same way. I sheltered a sense of injustice and pride deep within me. Feeling defeated and hopeless, I would sit at the corner and torture myself. Each night, I ate the cheapest meal I could find and chased it with the most expensive whiskey that I could afford. In the mornings I prayed for it to end; the injustice, the torment - the headache.
It may have taken a year, but eventually I realized that self pitty was worthless. Around this time I began to observe my fellow street dwellers, watching as they eyed the occupants of the vehicles unfortunate to get trapped at the light. Many would pretend to have idle conversations with their passengers. Others would fumbled with their radio controls. Finally, those least creative were hell bent on believing that if they stared hard enough, they could will the light green. As the saying goes, "out of sight, out of mind". However at each turn of traffic there would be at least one person who would forget to be ignorant. These folk would accidentally make eye contact, and as though they lost some children's game, would pay their dollar fee.
To me, it all seemed like a con game, where everyone knew their role and played it out flawlessly, but there was always someone new, who would hang their head and rely on sheer pitty to bring money. Those that would close their eyes and wait for the squeal of brake pads before throwing an upward gaze in hopes of seeing a hand out. Silly bastards would last as long as their stomachs remained quiet. First sign of hunger would send bottles flying and blue lights flashing. These 'poor' would enjoy a warm night in lock up while I had to replace the bucket and sign that the police confiscated.
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2 comments:
"Each night, I ate the cheapest meal I could find and chased it with the most expensive whiskey that I could afford. In the mornings I prayed for it to end; the injustice, the torment - the headache."
I'm liking where this is going, but make sure to clarify when you are talking about "they", sometimes I get lost between the drivers of the cars and other bums.
How do you feel about using the slightest bit of humor in this? Or do you think it would be off the mark?
I'm alright with humor. I was thinking about injecting a little bit of that once he begins to make interactions with some of the drivers.... the way he does. :-P
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