I found a spot on a concrete driveway directly against a triple-wide garage door on a large public utilities vehicle maintenance shop. It’s where I’ve been sleeping the past few nights. It is covered which is a good thing because it started raining very hard late last night.
Before the rain began, I was sleeping peacefully in my sleeping bag with my back pack as a pillow. Suddenly my head hit the concrete as the pack was snatched from beneath my head. I jerked to a sitting position to see the ass end of someone running down the street with my worldly possessions. “HEY!” was what I managed to shout. It was no good thinking of chasing them so far ahead were they and me still sitting and in stocking feet. I watched them disappear into the night.
was my next choice expression. It’s a little difficult to speak eruditely under such conditions. I trust you understand and forgive.
Well, that was it. Everything is gone now except for the clothes on my back, the stuff in my pockets and my sleeping bag. Oh, and Phred. Musn’t forget Phred.
They got my phone charger, all my writing materials including some already composed stuff, some food items, my medicine, my toiletries, and of course the bag.
They also got my birth certificate which is a very important document when applying for assistance from local agencies and a document that is VERY hard to replace. It practically takes an act of Congress . . ..
Oh well, that just makes that many less things I have to lose. You can’t take away from me that of which I have already been robbed. I was next to nothing anyway.
The writing material loss was awful. The birth certificate loss is potentially catastrophic —as though this existence wasn’t a catastrophe already. 😀 You got to laugh folks. You got to laugh. It’s either that or break down into a lump of goo.
I’ve been robbed while in the street before. It was in a different city so I’m pretty sure it was not the same guys. Besides, I didn’t have time to ask for identification papers — neither time.
I have been regaling you lately with “. . . Godot” It is VERY appropriate that I give another little sample right here. Fitting, even . . .
Estragon: In a ditch.
Vladimir: (admiringly) A ditch! Where?
Estragon: (without gesturing) Over there.
Vladimir: And they didn’t beat you?
Estragon: Beat me?? CERTAINLY they beat me.
Vladimir: The same lot as usual?
Estragon: The same? I don’t know.
Waiting for Godot. Samuel Beckett