My night had turned out to be unusual and fun. I had gone out to my usual evening bar hoping for it to be packed and if lucky a bedmate for the night. In many respects, I was glad to not have hooked up with anyone. My mental mindset was just not there. But that didn’t keep me from meeting a collection of interesting people.
One of those people was a lady by the name of Marcy. At first I had not recognized her as she talked excessively. Since I had not heard her stories, they were all fresh and new to me. It was about half way through our three hour discussion that I had realized who she was. Marcy and I had worked together on one of my projects back in 1994-1995. Sixteen years previous to our chance meeting once again.
Her life is full of color and that is an understatement. We briefly talked about bringing her story to life and she had admitted that she had gotten offers for film and book deals, but she wasn’t sure she could do it. She wants to do something, just not sure the best way to go about it. I cannot compete against the people who have approached her, and to be honest, without the financial backing I need, I could not do her justice either in book or a film version. What a thrill it would be to bring this colorful figure to the world. Molly Brown would pale in comparison to this lady.
After she left, I meet a couple of people. I have found it interesting that my desirableness or what I call “New Meat” index is so high considering my homelessness status. I figure it is simply due to the fact that I am forced to be out and about since I can’t curl up at home and hide from the world. I am not complaining God knows I would love a relationship to come along, which is ironic considering my situation.
Look at me; a business owner who is so close to losing everything, homeless to boot. I have nothing to offer anyone in a relationship other then myself. Ok, from a metaphysical point of view, that’s all one should ever need. Giving completely of themselves to another when in a relationship. Sadly, this materialistic world does not work that way. People expect you to bring yourself to the table, but also an income that is equal to or greater than theirs. I can’t even bring a date to my place. “Care to come back to my Park Bench?” Or, “I’d love to have you over for dinner at my storage unit.” NOT!
So while I get to meet people and hopefully develop friendships I find myself frustrated in the fact that I cannot honestly have a relationship with someone at this time. And that is the saddest part of being homeless. Further ousterzing yourself from people.
Life goes on…I go on
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