I was walking to my car in the Costco parking lot, cart loaded up as it always is when I shop there, when a young man approached me. I thought, Aha, maybe this is my first homeless person interview coming right up! I forgot all about the frozen salmon and the tri-tips that could get a head start on cooking in the bright sunlight.
The man looked Eurasian. Around 5' 9 " tall and about 150 lbs. He was very clean and well groomed, and in fact looked like he'd just stepped out of the shower. His hair was long, dark with a few gray strands, had bit of curl and was freshly shampooed. He wore a spotless white tee shirt with advertising on it, wore clean denims and shoes with very little wear on them. I looked at his arms and drew on my nurse experience and I didn't see any drug track marks. He was calm and didn't appear to be under the influence of any drugs or alcohol. Needless to say, he didn't look very homeless to me, but I figured I'd ask him a bunch of questions anyway, once he'd asked me for money. He wouldn't look me in the eye at first, rather shifted side to side. As I showed interest in him and his problems, he faced me square on and looked directly into my eyes. My conclusions at the end of the interview was he'd told me a number of lies, some untruths, but there was a lot of truth in his story as well. While he was talking, there were times when the words flowed out of him from the depths of his being and I could tell those parts were true. Other times not so much. Here goes:
"Excuse me, ma'am. I wonder if I might ask you a favor. You see, we belong to the church around the corner, and we're homeless. The pastor of the church told me he'd get us into a room if I could raise $200. I'm short $55. That's all." He looked down at the ground.
"Where are you living now?" I asked. "And who's we? Are you married?"
"Yeah, it's me and my wife and two kids. They're 5 and 6. We live in Pearson Park right down the street. We have a little spot behind a flower planter that we've sort of carved out as ours. No one knows we're there."
"Do your kids go to school?" I asked.
His head shot up at that and he looked me straight in the eye. He had a bit of fear on his face. "No, why? Is that against the law?"
"I don't know about that. I'm just curious. I'm a writer and I'm interested in people, that's all." I smiled at him.
He smiled back. "You're a writer? Maybe you can write a book about me and then I'll get rich."
"Why are you homeless? Did you ever work?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah. I had a good job in IT at Boeing and I got laid off. They laid off 1500 people. I used to make $48 an hour. I had everything I needed. I can't find a job anywhere now. I've applied at every single store in this area and I can't get a job. I even applied at Chuck E Cheese. I'll do fast food, anything to get back on my feet. My mom lives in Texas and I have a sister in Washington but we can't go there. They have their own financial problems and they don't want us. I tried to talk my mom into it, but she says no."
"How old are you?"
"46. Pretty sad, huh? Here I am a 46 year old man out asking people for money. I'd rather work any day than live like this," he said, looking me straight in the eye.
I noticed again how clean he was and knew it was time to ask. "So, I noticed you're very well groomed and your clothes are spotless. How are you able to do that when you're homeless?"
He didn't have a good answer for that question and didn't look me in the eye. "Well, uh, sometimes the church people let us in to take showers and wash clothes..."
"You know, it's kind of a coincidence but I had a man ask me for money the other day over in Henry's parking lot. He also told me he just needed a few more dollars and he'd have enough for a room? Your stories a similar. Why do you think that is?"
"I don't know, but those other guys only want money for drugs. They'll tell you anything."
I remembered my food and started loading my car.
"So, do you think you can help me out with a little money?" he said, hesitantly.
I reached into my wallet and pulled out some bills. "Here you go. This is for talking to me so I'll have something to write about. Good luck to you and your family. I hope you find work soon."
"Thank you and God Bless You. I hope I do, too. Only $45.00 to go and we'll have a room."
Somewhere in between these lines lies the truth.
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