15 Minutes, Prose & Poetry

The Sheltered Existence Part 3

June 16

This morning, a “personfight” occurred at breakfast where one resident accused another of stealing(?) her juice. Took a DHS (Dept of Homeless Services) cop to calm things down. It’s not like it’s the highest quality 100% juice…

I’m here because it is what it is. Better than lockup, no worse than the street – at least here you can sleep, bathe and have a “place to be”. For me, it’s a place to sleep and bathe. Otherwise, it’s a soul-crushing drain on your sanity and patience. the wait. Jeebus, they make you wait. and wait. uhm, a few of us have jobs… Every few minutes, you’re asked why you’re sitting in the chairs, like you’re an inconvenience. You respond:

  • “Waiting to see the caseworker”
  • “Need a renewed Meal Ticket”
  • “Intake”

and, you really want to answer:  “I’m bored shitless, and I just want to annoy you.”

June 17

Walked into the “wreck” room as another argument was ending. The “babysitter” had his radio out as two women walked and got the third and they left. This was followed immediately after by another whinging about a cigarette. Can’t wait to get the hell out of here.