Crazy Lady
(1:33 P.M. – 1:49 P.M. US Central Time/Friday/library outside of Downtown)
[imood mood at time of entry: happy]
Even if I ran shrieking through the streets stark naked, I don’t believe that I could appear madder than some of the spectacles that I have been privy to. Sometimes, I have found that the displays of madness are an emotional reaction to a situation, but sometimes, people are simply nuts and should take up residence in a Planters can and call it a life.
I was at WalGreens earlier this week on Tuesday (August 24, 2004), and I saw one such person. I could see her sucking on a 40 ounce bottle of malt liquor and cursing at cats or anyone who came near her in my mind’s eye. Immediately, I was afraind of her. I grew more apprehensive the longer I watched her. I did write an entry about her in my offline journal. That’s below.
I’m sitting here, wondering which is a harder space to be in, watching a tall, lumbering woman charge up to unsuspecting victims, and ask them for one something, crooked index finger and all, or being one of the people being asked. All the while, I’m holding my breathing, terrified that this scary, possibly crazy homeless woman, will come up to my mom’s car. I’m hoping and praying that my mom will come out of the store before she does. I’m wondering desparately why I didn’t accompany my mother in the store. I’m wondering if she would have simply gotten us when we came out.
I had no such luck. She got me. She requested one dollar for bus fare to get “home”, wherever that is. I suppose its harder to be the dirty woman begging when everyone looks down on you with their hitched icy regard. Denying you any help, though they are holding money in their hands. Too bad I didn’t have a dollar, I would have given it to her. No questions asked. I always do.
Everything that can go wrong with the typing of the end of my story has. I have finished the fic, but it needs editing and fluffing to flesh out the sex scene. Maybe tomorrow.
Danielle
I dont’ know if I would have given her a dollar. Judging by her apparant state I would have assumed that it wasn’t for bus fare but going towards and extra bottle of liquor for when she runs out she will have the shakes hard core.
I loved my homeless clients but I was a realist. Even the craziest of them were expert scammers. Wanting a quarter for this or a dollar for that and they would always be back all licked up.
I used to live in a big city in Canada. Happened to be a very dirty city and I lived in the shit hole part of it. When my ex and I would go to the movies (tuesday was cheap night and he would get popcorn for himself to eat) we’d have to walk by a ton of homeless people. We had to walk through the hookers too. There was one that was absolutly beautiful. Anyhow, so all these people would ask for money for food. Well, my ex stole an extra bucket of popcorn and was planning to bring it home and gave it to the homeless man who was asking for money for food. He promptly threw it back at us. End of that.
The Chicago greyhound station is a good place to watch people begging for money at all hours. And selling VCR’s and video camera’s oddly enough (gee I wonder if they were hot).
I think it’s sad that so many mentally ill people are homeless. I know in my state they started closing down the state mental institution and started into that group homeshit and a lot of the institutionalized clients didn’t qualify for a group home and have gone homeless. It makes me mad that our government in our state respects our "voiceless" population so little.
If you’re running through the streets naked, I want pictures.
Brandon
Josh was totally suprised that I didn’t just totally attack Judy and I was so damn close to. Man when I walked out of there I didn’t look back because I knew if I did I would have totally fucking clocked her. I was crying at first out of just sheer anger. You know how that goes. Oh god I was so freaking close to tackling her in that meeting.
I know that the homeless appreciate the money you give them even if it is to buy more drugs or whatever. I thought about it and I wonder how many of them actually realize or are with it enough to realize that there is hope and help out there that they have access to. You know?
My understanding is that most mentally ill people on the street are schizophrenic and that schizophrenics are rarely violent. R and I left a concert in SF one night and, waiting for the bus, were serenaded by a drunk woman with a really beautiful voice. I think she could see we were in love and she sang us a jazzy love song with a smile on her face, and I gave her money. I never give money to beggars but I always give money to street musicians (even if drunk) because I figure they’re working and that could have easily been me had my life gone a different direction.
The mentally ill on the street are scary because they are unpredictable, but my heart breaks for them too. I just try to be compassionate and detached, which is difficult. I’d make a lousy social worker.
–Solo