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I am going to say some things in this entry that might make some you say "Wow! This guy is a real asshole." To which I will respond with furrowed brow, "Yeah, no shit." Though you probably won't be able to see just how furrowed my eyebrows are since you are all the way on the other side of internet. You'll just have to trust that they are indeed amply furrowed, especially when I say those words.

I fucking hate the homeless, there I said it, and it feels really good. I didn't always hate them, in fact up until yesterday, transients and I co-existed in this city in a rather peaceful manner. If I had change in my pocket, or leftovers to give away they would always get them, even though I probably could use those leftovers myself I knew they would probably benefit from them more. When they would stop me on the street to spin some crazy yarn about how they got attacked by a dog who stole their bus ticket or whatever, I would listen knowing that eventually their fantastic tale would come to a close with the obligatory "I just need a little help to get back to Burien." More often than not my response was "Sorry man." because as a rule, I don't carry cash. The thing is, these stories are often so entertaining that I actually feel bad that they wasted their time telling them to me. I've even been given things by the homeless, and I wrote a post about it on my old MySpace blahg which I might put up here in the next couple of days.

So what could have happened to raise my ire so much, that I would go on to a public forum announce my hate for a certain demographic? Well it started last week at my bus stop where I was verbally berated by an extremely drunk bum. He came up to me and asked me if I was married, I told him no and then asked him if he was married, he said no but then went on to tell me that his brother had been married "shix tymsh". Keep in mind that I had my earphones in, my extremely sweet aviators on, and my bus was due to arrive any second. So after that brief exchange I told him to have a nice day, and he kind of got the hint or so I thought. He stumbled about 6 feet from me whipped around and started screaming. "You faggot! Yer a got-damn homo! Look a'chu wit'cher dark'glashes, you faggot!" By this point I had removed my earphones and began to get very self-concious, not because I don't want anyone to know that I am a homosexual (sorry Mom, it doesn't look like you are getting any curly haired grandchildren), but because all the people on the street started wondering what I must have said to this guy to piss him off so much. That and I kind of worried that my pink-lined hoodie made me look gay to them.

That wasn't the straw that broke the camels back though. As I mentioned earlier, that straw landed squarely on the camels back yesterday. I was having lunch with my friend Scribbles, it was a nice day so we decided to eat outside. This was our first mistake. Scribbles is a food appreciator, and I had chosen one of my favorite sandwich shops, Tat's. Unfortunately for Tat's, it's located just across from the newly re-done Occidental Park, where a lot of the homeless go to sit and be drunk or high or whatever. Anyway, Scribbles and I had just finished our sandwiches when one of the many transients walked up to us. "Excuse me," he said surprisingly not drunk at all a 1pm "do you guys have a moment?" Scribbles was quick with an answer "Sorry man, I don't have any cash on me." Following suit I said the same thing. The dude flew into a rage and this is what he actually said "A guy can get his eye cut out in Kuwait, but he can't even ask a question in America?!" He walked away in a huff while saying this, to which Scribbles and I could only exchange confused looks.

First of all, the guy wasn't missing an eye. Secondly, he looked and smelled like he was homeless, so our Pavlovian responses were not completely off the mark. My guess is that he was just pissed that we hadn't let him hit us with a story. I suppose that it's possible that he was just going to ask for the time, or how the sandwiches were, but chances are he was more pissed about being called out by some locals and wanted to get his 2 cents in. That or he knew I was the writer of an extremely popular blag and wanted to see if I would post this story. Well, here it is, I hope some dudes eye was a small enough price to pay to see these words, jerk.

In closing the guy made an excellent point, even if he wasn't truly intending it. The city has made me quick to judge, which sucks. At the same time I don't need to be harangued by some guy in the middle of the afternoon, just because I don't want to talk to his drunk ass. What I am trying to say is that there are plenty of tourists. They are the people wearing t-shirts with the Che Guevera like depiction of Kurt Cobain (a classic tourist move, to blend in with the "locals") and are extremely to spot. Those are the people who they should be trying to hit up.

I realize that I was born in to the kind of life that many of the people I have referenced in this blog could only dream about. I also know that human-kindness is a a crap shoot, when you are just trying to get some money to eat. I've been there, when I first moved here I was living on 200 bucks a month, at my father's suggestion I was stealing off the back of bread trucks. Again, I had a place to live, but I knew of the resources.

Damn!

Okay, so I don't hate them so much. Maybe I will go and volunteer with Erica at the clinic as soon as she gets back.

This is what I truly love about my own writing. It really does help me figure out my own thoughts.