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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
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Talking to JR, explaining to him that the homeless, they've more or less accepted me as one of them. I'm on the same schedule, up too early in the morning, scrounging for coffee, I'm the better dressed homeless guy with money for coffee and cigarettes and then disappears with places to go...
...but the café owners, they know, I'm fooling no one, and JR is joking as we pass a few of them on the street and they greet me and after they pass he begins the low chant..."One of Us...one of us..." and I'm laughing, my fate appears inescapable...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 483
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday the weather is muddled. Thunder, lightening, light rain, downpours.
Sunday, Monday the library is closed, Monday the Gym is closed.
Tuesday, a nap in the park between showers, after an hour abandoning all efforts, heading back to the car for a better sleep in from the wind and showers, and who should I run into on the edge of Lakeshore Park but Stormy.
He's been let out by his sister. It's been a while, and my guilt about not visiting him has only aggravated my not visiting him. He's not bearing a grudge, and it soon becomes apparent why.
We're talking, he recognizes me from the restaurant. But he doesn't remember how long it's been we've known one another, and he's guessing 2 years. He doesn't remember my name, and is asking about the town where the restaurant is, and the other place, just up from us..."Ainsworth" I tell him, "...the hot springs..." and he takes a minute to think about it before smiling, that's right.
He's in his second infancy, the days pass and are unmemorable, just a sequence of impressions, memory has abandoned him.
It's good to see him, even like this, he's gotten a new set of false teeth, last week, he shows me, they pulled the last of his top teeth (tooth?) and replaced it with a nice line of dentures. He's happy enough, tells me where he's living and to come & visit him. He's too young to be this far gone, but, so it goes, and I can't take more of an interest in his health than he does himself. Eventually, visit done, load him into the car, his wheelchair into the back, and he's back to the home.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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At Share, looking for a few things. Reading glasses (on my last pair), a few odds and sods. 10:00 AM, as soon as they open, and I run into S*, who a few years ago I worked with at the D&D. She was overweight then, lost a ton of weight on the crystal meth diet, was posting swimsuit modelling pictures of herself every day on Facebook.
And then she started rebutting accusations she lost the weight thanks to a diet of largely crystal meth, and then started posting daily how many days and weeks she'd been sober, and then about abusive boyfriends and landlords. In the end you snooze her.
So, here she is, rough as nails, homeless again, apparently shaved her head into a full Mohawk, she's starting to look like a late-stage meth-head.
She's zoodled, she's talking to me, can't make eye contact, going on a mile a minute, she's got to get out of Nelson, needs a place to camp, get it together, had it with this town, someplace off the grid, I must know? I would know, of course, but she's too busy talking to heed any recommendations, going off, trying to conceal the fact that she's still high as a kite through a superabundance of inane chatter and diatrebe and don't look at her, don't look at her, she's hiding in shame and righteousness
This girl needs to learn to Fentanyl and Chill. In any event, mid thirties, recovery unlikely, scraping by on disability for her ADHD, which I find ironic, how do you diagnose ADHD in a meth-head...
Anyways, mentioned her before, a few more mentions I'm sure and she'll be off to her forever home.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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And Chris, prospecting buddy who'd come with me to Crystal Mountain, now growing more than a little painful, he's irate I didn't buy him a ticket to Amissa, irate that I charged him for an extra chip-mayo at the restaurant, he's become a bit too-much the dog-gone begging, always broke and so you pay, for gas, food, spot him a hundred bucks that disappears into the void. It's just another drop in the bucket with Chris.
He's always broke, for the record, because he just bought a snowmobile for the winter, used it once, and then sold it at a loss. He's broke because he just bought himself a new Motorcycle. He's broke because he bought himself a motorcycle outfit. He'd spend money but we're too expensive. He's expecting money to come in from his sister/mother/father for his birthday/Christmas...
In short, his whole lifestyle is based on being a dollar short and a day too late, and he does very well for himself in this perpetual poverty and I've grown more than a little tired of subsidizing it...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 528
So, business slow, some of our usual great tippers, but - well, this will be a different year.
Anyways, a few of the new staff, and a short elaboration on each:
First there's H* - young, 26, tall, lean, wearing anime styled skirts and looking good in her schoolgirl outfits. Partnered, talking to JR, probably trying to ingratiate herself to him, she tells him she wants a baby soooo badly, and you see it in her eyes, she's committed to the bit, full on nutty, you could see if she doesn't have one soon she'll find a pregnant woman and tear it out, "She seemed pleasant enough" we'll all be saying...boyfriend beware...While I've never seen or read it, she reminds me of that lead in "50 Shades of nonsense....", her outfits generally only need a collar to complete, which unfortunately I can't recommend.
Then there's C* - Chef, the one who came in from Victoria having been mugged. He's always looking to scrounge a cigarette, eats and drinks in the restaurant, his tabs a further deduction on his paycheck - on top of the rent. He should know better, come pay periods he's going to be owing the restaurant money, not getting any back. So far he owes me $60. I don't have a lot of hope.
There's T* - a pretty, pixie styled 30 something year old who seems able to do the job and have a laugh. She's genuinely likeable, which is a rare enough thing, and it's a joy to work with someone - well, new.
T* - a customer, who upon discussion I find out is the person who bought the property just off the highway a few KM back. I remember her moving in - 6 years ago. And so I ask, for the curious, it was a rumbledown shack in a ravine - how much did she pay? And it turns out they were asking $89,000 for it, 1.2 Acres, then when she called the realtor told her it was dropped to $82,000, so she put in an offer of $62,000 and was accepted. By golly by gully that's a mortgage I could have afforded...
***
Wednesday, a day off, only H* has texted me early in the morning - 6:11 AM to be precise, to ask if I could cover her shift, she's feeling sick.
Sure.
And so I text JR and tell him he should take the night off - it's not been busy enough for 2.
Coffee, John Ward, run into K***, old chef from the Golf Course, dawdling his newborn - 1 year old child. He's a cutie. We chat, catch up, ask about P* - a notable homeless guy who was highly visible in the neighborhood and seems to have disappeared, K*** doesn't know where he's disappeared to. Homeless come and go, although the going usually involves an OD, no obituary and a new home 6' under.
On that note there's a new travelling addict in town, just dosed up, dressed like a DJ, in and out of the café, incomprehensible, the latest in the junkie migration, always verging on toppling over but he seems to be keeping it together...
***
JR responds, no, I should have my day off, I deserve it. Whew. And so I'm off, to the Gym, then to the library, then out to get some sun, a free man once again.
***
1:00 JR calls, plans have changed, he's had a fight with his mommy, I have to work.
***
And, getting to work, annoyed beyond measure at this rollercoaster of working-not-working, I find the latest news. C* has disappeared, texted Sean (Chef) in the middle of the night that he's on his way to Winnipeg...he still owed me $60...not surprised, really, he was spending more than he was earning, likeable but a flake, now the kitchen is Man down and who should they be calling but Ken, who's grown unhappy in his current role and is coming in for an interview on the morrow. Ken, he'll love these new waitresses, Ken, ahh, now the summer fun will begin...
Working, a haze over the lake, smoke from the fires working it's way into the valley already, 6,10 weeks early. It's a beautiful spot to watch the world burn.