The board table was filled with some of the tops in the community, “No-hair Harry”, “Windshield Wally”, and of course “BP Bob”. It was the monthly meeting held under the freeway in the part of town where no one drove. You got off on the access road at your own risk and the junkies and dealers were peddling their wares to whoever would listen.
“Now look guys, it’s time for quality review time,” said No-hair Harry.
“Aren’t you going to open the meeting in a civilized way Harry,” BP Bob interrupted. “we aren’t all neanderthals, we’re just homeless.”
“Fine, I call to order this meeting of the International Brotherhood of Homeless, Hobos and Street Performers Chapter 806,” Harry said with a smile.
“Move to waive the reading of the minutes,” No-teeth Natalie tried to say but it came out where noone could really understand her. She just needed to feel like she had a purpose in life.
“Ok, let’s move on. Now let’s see everyone’s signs,” Windshield Wally said as he held his own up (Will wash your windshield for $5 or best offer).
All around the broken table that was held up with two shopping carts the members held up their signs one by one.
(Will Work For Food) – said White Trash Sally’s. “Good,” everyone said.
One nut Neil held up his sign and everyone started to laugh.
“What, what’s wrong? What did I do this time,” he said as he turned his sign around to look at it. “I changed it from the last one. I wasn’t getting any money and mostly got middle fingers with (Will have sex for food).”
“Now, look Neil, we’re homeless not illiterate,” Airhead Angela said.
“Yeah, I like the words but do you want the people that look at your sign say “I’m gonna hand the homeless guy a dollar and tell him to buy himself a vowel,” BP Bob laughed”
One Nut Neil looked at his sign. All it said was (I used to be an accountant plese help me with a dollar).
“What?”
“Would you like an A Vanna,” BP Bob said?
Neil jumped up and crossed pushing Soup kitchen Sandra to the ground as he tried to get to Bob, “Just because you screwed up the Gulf doesn’t mean I’ll feel any pity for you as I start kicking your ass up and down the hood Bob.”
As he got closer and closer to Bob the Peacemaker got between the two of them holding up a glass filled with what could best be described as prison punch.
“Why don’t you two just have a drink and relax,” he said and pushed the glass in Neil’s face.
Neil took a sip and started to gag, “this is worse than the last batch you made up, what did you put in it, lighter fluid?”
“Actually a tablespoon of battery acid for that extra pick me up,” Peacemaker said as everyone gathered around for their taste of the kidney killing nectar.
Sandra interrupted with a “remember that the south side soup kitchen has bran muffins this week!” This was greeted with cheers!
“Everyone remember the cops will looking in the north side this week so lets keep our activities to the east and south until the heat cools down and remember, we have our standards, don’t be like Big Voice Ted and try to go big time,” No-hair Harry said.
“Yeah. he doesn’t even remember I gave him that piece of cardboard. He owes me 14.85% of his future earnings.” One Nut Neil said.
“I hope people remember that this could happen to them if things don’t change soon,” Bad beard Barry said as the meeting broke up.
“Well, more homeless could mean more membership dues, and just think of the strike fund that we can have,” said Tranny Taglibue.
As one by one they left for their assigned areas One Nut Neil was scratching out his new masterpiece.
(Bet ya can’t hit me with a quarter)
“That’ll do it! I’ll be eating at the dollar menu by lunch today.”
Keegan played the guitar and wailed Bob Dylan while the winos drank their wine. No matter how hard he tried to involve the audience they weren’t buying what he was selling.
“Play some death metal,” one wino said with the paper bag wrapped around the two buck chuck he brought into the small open aired amphitheatre. The breeze blew lightly as the men started their shark like gathering near the bar waiting for the women like chum.
With a sigh, Keegan reminded the wino, that like the thirteen other times that it was requested that his repertoire did not include Slipknot, Freebird or any other of the inane requests that he was getting. It wasn’t his usual place to play on a Friday night. He just needed to let the guitar strings play a melody or two with someone that would listen. Normally, his apartment, a rough one bedroom studio that he rented after his rented house burned to the ground due to a rat chewing through the electrical lines, would have been the place to release his demons.
But today, his demons needed to be fed. They needed to be given praise, hatred, just some kind of emotion that would keep him going. Playing didn’t pay the bills anymore, ever since the selective cover charge that in the end seemed to be less and less even though more and more people showed up. He knew that the alarm would fire early and he would be off once again driving the bus with the snot nosed brats that always “knew him from somewhere” but could never pull it together since they always left the bar with their inhibitions gone, drunk beyond recognition of the guitar player on stage with their panties in their dates pocket.
He looked into the crowd for the one person who got him, there was always one that he converted to the church of music every show, and if he couldn’t find them, he felt like he had to put the guitar up for good.
Tonight might be the night.
Then she walked into the door, being dragged by four sorority sisters, the one that was brought along to make the others look smaller. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t pretty, she had beautiful blue eyes and her smile made the room light up.
Keegan took the moment to switch from Clapton to Stevie Ray Vaughn soulfully pulling each string as the young women ordered sangria. He tried with each chord to touch their hearts but of the five women eighty percent of them were filled with hopes and dreams of completing the MRS degree.
As sangria turned into two, the men started their approach, one by one until she was left.
“I can’t believe it… Her blouse blends in with the couch. She’s domestically camoed,” said one of the sisters to the other as they walked out of the amphitheatre new acquisitions in hand ready to dance the night away. It didn’t matter as Keegan held her with his voice.
The so called friends, who had decided to leave her with “the musician”, as if he had a contagious disease, didn’t know but five years later would find out that he would write many songs, to the one , who others looked past, while he saw into her heart. He called her his love, companion, muse, and lover.
So while watching a television show last night their was a dog bark. I looked at the dogs and watched both Keegan and Aengus ears pop up. They immediately ran to the window and started to bark at the “invisible dog.”
Now traditionally there is a rule in the house not to taunt the dog, which originated with Mugsy. Joe Woodyard , one of my best friends, always liked to ring the doorbell and make Mugsy go crazy and barking.
“Do not taunt the dog!” I would sternly tell him.
But tonight I couldn’t help myself.
Over and over again I replayed the “invisible barking dog” on the TV and they spent ten minutes trying to find the dog.
You spoiled little bastard! You’re a man who has everything, haven’t you, but that’s not enough. You feel unloved, Arthur, welcome to the world. Everyone is unloved. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself. And incidentally, I love you.
Just remember that there are people who are out in the world who are in a worse situation than yours before the complaint hits your tongue.
The joy of being middle management is always fun in both Jo’s and my world. We spend many a moment slapping our heads and going, “Really?” But I digress, as since the recession has hit, my family and friends of mine I’m very fortunate to have a job.
So let’s talk about proper etiquette.
No matter how many times I tell people they still think I don’t know what they say behind my back and yet they still think that they are getting whatever they need from me after they have bad mouthed me to anyone who will listen.
I don’t care what people think of me anymore. I really don’t. I used to care what people think about me, but I’ve watched people in careers soar to the heights of management that couldn’t do anything but talk about why his people couldn’t give him the proper TPS reports. I used to want to be known by everyone, but right now I’m comfortable being who I am, the go to guy for the VP’s. I’m in middle management, I do a great job, I get paid a fair salary and I get good benefits. I’ve been there for 15 years and its going to take something incredible for me to leave. I’m comfortable.
But that being said, I’ve come to the conclusion that I can not nor should I give advice to my friends about their jobs. Some of them will listen, some of them want to just have someone hear their bitches and most of them want to think that they are important in some fashion.
But I have pride in my work and my workplace, something that some employees in some places don’t have.
I went to a store and watched as some minimum wage employee tried to do his best to get something fronted while another boss watched and just told him why he was doing it all wrong. I could see it in the employees eyes that he cared very little about the job and it showed in his performance.
But then Joanna and I went to dinner and watched as a server take his time, get what we needed and be like a ghost, visible, but not intrusive. His initiative got him a 30% tip and compliment to his manager.
Two people, one who didn’t want to care and got nowhere. One that had initiative and is going places.
I can see Andy as a Manager and Thomas well, asking me if I want fries with that.
Look guys, I can be brutally honest with you if ya let me, so here goes.
1.If you are working with me I’m going to give you 100% and ask for 100% in return. I’m not going to ask you to do something that I haven’t done in the past nor I’m not willing to do with you. I’m going to bust my ass for you behind closed doors and help you grow. But you’ve gotta help me. You’ve gotta make it so when I make my effort it doesn’t fall on deaf ears. Because those who are deaf often miss their stop in the train of life.
2. If you want my help, ask. I am willing and wanting to help anyone and everyone. But if you ask for something and I provide it , you better have a good reason why you can’t help me. Help is a two way street.
3. Communicate what you need. I don’t have all the solutions or all the resources to make everything happen, but I do have friends who do. But I can’t help if you don’t let me know what you need. But then again, you better be following 1 + 2 above.
4. Be honest with me. If there isn’t a shot in the world that you can help me, don’t string me along. Just say “Sean, can’t help you.” Because I’m going to be honest with you and sometimes honesty hurts, but then again it hurts a lot less than a painful lie.
5. Your family comes first, then your job, then your friends and after that everyone else. No ifs ands, or buts.
If you can remember these 5 truths, you will be a better person. If not…
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