Browsing Tag

homelessness

Austin, Hipstercrite Life

Yesterday a Homeless Friend Gifted Me Lunch

 

I have a friend.

His name is Tyrone.

Tyrone is homeless.

We’ve been buddies for years now, and we have each other’s backs.

Our favorite pastime is to hang on my front porch, chewing the fat on the troubles and joys of this beautiful and sometimes hateful world.

I could write a novel on our relationship — like when he and I pooled our resources to buy him a van to sleep out of, or when he wanted to heal the stye on my eyelid with a needle and whiskey — but I don’t feel it’s appropriate or necessary to write about it in a public way. Maybe one day.

However, there is one thing I want to share:

Two days ago, my boyfriend mentioned to Tyrone that I lost my job.

Yesterday Tyrone came by my house to gift me lunch.

Tyrone, who has no home, no steady employment and who struggles to find healthy and satiating meals on a daily basis, brought me lunch because I lost my job.

I love Tyrone.

And I’m thankful for his friendship.

(Note: I used Prisma to obscure Tyrone’s face to respect (more…)

Austin

Yesterday a Homeless Man Gave Me Money

Last night, as I parallel parked my car on West 6th Street, between Hut’s Hamburgers and Whole Foods, a tall, older man dressed in black waved his arms at me, implying that I should back my car up.

“A $40 ticket they’ll give you for not being in the lines,” I could hear muffled through my window.

I made sure my car was in the lines and watched as the tall, older man dressed in black cheerfully spoke to the stream of people who walked by.

“Ain’t that a nice sweater you have!” he said to one man who eyed him suspiciously.

I exited my car and walked to the parking meter that stood between the man and I.

I too was suspicious of his jovial nature, and as we made small talk while I tried to purchase a parking sticker for my car with a credit card, I wondered when we’d get to the point he’d ask me for change.

Admitting this makes me cringe, but like most major cities, parking in downtown settings often comes with its share of panhandlers. When I was little, I couldn’t understand (more…)