About the bus, misogyny and homelessness…
[Originally posted on Facebook March 4th 2017]
Every now and then the armor that I wear in my everyday life is too thin, too easily dissolved by the events of a certain minute, hour, day or week.
Most days I see the shining orbit of sun, stars and humans that enter my own galaxy, or bus.
Most days the incredible kindness and fortitude encourages and binds me in a delightful way to this mortal coil. BUT NOT TODAY.
Today wasn't extraordinarily unkind to me, but I did feel the weight of most things today as if gravity has it out for me. But, I think in just the grand scheme of life, I have it pretty easy. Really easy.
I woke up today missing someone whom I care about deeply, and with the gravity of that holding me to my bed, I sighed and got up and checked my phone. Two good deeds were done through my buy nothing Group by the time I left for work, so I smiled. This was a good start!
Getting my bus was business as usual, and I made it to my route on time. Only to be stuck in the snarl of Comicon traffic. Again, standard Friday stuff.
At least I packed good snacks.
The next trip, which lasts 59 minutes from start to end was where I got all the friendly men who aimed their compliments at me. Because you know, I washed my hair today, so that MUST mean I'm asking for it: 2 you're pretty's, 5 baby's, 8 darlin's, 2 weird smiles and 2 folks hovering too close, 1 those pants sure fit you good and 1 good to know I'm still a man. And the first time ever "you really know how to handle this bus, I like how you cut those corners", whatever THAT is supposed to mean.
Thank goodness I had a decent break and good snacks.
Onwards to serve the regular Friday night crowd, including the happy hour peeps and the corresponding Uber and Lyft drivers who wait for their customers in the bus zones.
Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of regular folks too, but the mix on a Friday night is always more interesting than usual. Oh, and the guy from last week who is not mentally stable and occasionally screams at me or the other riders at the top of his lungs from about 2 feet from your face. Luckily no incidents with him tonight.
Things go pretty great for one trip, mostly because riders are scarce and traffic is light.
I get to have another sandwich and have a short break.
Last trip I get all the party people who stayed until the last moment possible, all the people who work until midnight and are on their way home, and the regular homeless population who try to catch the last ride to wherever it is that they spend their nights.
This guy called Randy asks me if I can take him to a certain address, it is for the Nightwatch program. He gives me the card and I see he has already missed the curfew. He has already been walking around for a few hours looking for the place. I am trying to help him as best I can, but you know I'm driving a bus, and he is disoriented and also has hearing loss. So something that seems simple becomes not so simple.
So, I ask some of the customers on the bus if they know where this place is, the address on the card was wrong, so no wonder Randy can't find the shelter. We eventually figure out where it is, and a couple on the bus is helping to explain. Problem is that Randy is confused and lost and doesn't have a good sense of direction.
At the next stop, the couple decides to try to walk Randy to the shelter. And I already feel depleted.
Luckily this is my last trip. Only 45 minutes to go.
I finally make it to Mount Baker Transit Center, the last passenger gets off and all that is left is to drive back to base.
As I turn back onto Jackson, there I see Randy and the good samaritans coming back. The shelter didn't have a spot, he missed curfew anyway. Even though I probably could have just driven past, I stop. The samaritans are going home since it is in the opposite direction as Randy and I are going.
I drop Randy off at the last possible stop before I head back to base. He is so nice about it when I tell him this is where I leave him. I help him pick up his sparse belongings and the bus fare ticket that he dropped.
Randy smiles such a sweet smile, his blue eyes sparkle and his sweet soul dissolves the last bit of my armor.
He says: "I'll figure it out. I've been in Seattle 20 years, but I still have a hard time remembering where to go."
My heart is pierced by the injustice and the shittiness of it all.
Today is the day that I weep because I feel so bloody useless against this onslaught of humanity. Or perhaps inhumanity.
Because people should have a place to sleep. Should have food. Shelter. Care. Love.