Okay, maybe the title of this post is a little harsh, or is it?  This is another journal entry from my homelessness thing.  I still don’t know what to call it.

Here’s a reality most of us don’t think about.  Gasoline is a necessity in suburbia, if of course, you have a car.  On Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs, gas ranks on the safety level.  This could be a whole blog post in itself.

Basic necessities are scarce or unavailable

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to fit in, especially when you don’t have money to buy anything.  I’m at a different Starbucks than yesterday.  I still have about $4.00 in cash and I would love nothing more than a hot cup of coffee, but instead, I’m drinking my cold leftovers from yesterday. 

I woke up several times during the night.  I think it was mostly from the heat, but also from the discomfort of my car seat, which in no way was designed to sleep in.  When I finally woke up this morning, I had a stiff neck and it feels like I pulled a muscle behind my ear.  What the?!  Is that even possible?  I need a massage, but I’m guessing homeless people don’t get those.

After 20 minutes of careful contemplation on where to go this morning, I decided to head toward the mall.  When you’re homeless, you can’t just start the car and drive anymore, as there’s much planning that goes into a daily driving plan.  Parking in the shade is a must in the middle of summer.  I need to be able to walk places.  I suppose I could panhandle for gas money, but in suburbia, that would just get me arrested.

I chose this area since my friend Steve will be joining me later this evening.  He lives near here so there’s no extra driving.  I wonder how he will handle this?  Honestly, I felt like quitting last night.  Being homeless sucks.  It has to suck way more for people that aren’t doing this by choice.  Two weeks.

Here I am at Starbucks again.  I see why homeless people would come here.  You can sit here for hours reading, writing, typing, people watching or just staring into space, and nobody thinks anything about it.  That is, as long as you don’t look homeless.

I walked in this morning, realizing I look like crap, and I’m thinking I probably don’t smell so great either.  How do I know this?  Because I feel like crap.  I got some deodorant yesterday and I think it’s time to apply some.

I brought my precious Starbucks paper cup, filled with yesterday’s cold coffee.  I walked in and headed straight for the restroom.  Again, Starbucks has good restrooms, but timing is everything.  I’ll have to choose my highest hygiene priorities, as I can’t stay in there too long.

As I walked past the counter, the Baristas that usually greet everyone with pleasant greetings and smiles, just gave me the evil eye.  They had every intention of smiling at me, but I could see the instant discomfort as they looked up from their busy work.  Am I making this up?  Is it my paper cup?  It’s starting to look a little worn.  Is it my appearance?  That’s looking worn too.  Am I just being paranoid because I feel disgusting?  Maybe.  Other people in here are also looking up from their business of drinking expensive coffee to glare at me.  No smiles.  I don’t know what it’s like to walk down death row, but I’m guessing the facial expressions wouldn’t be far from these.

[Chug bitter, cold coffee.]

Did I mention this really sucks?  I don’t know what I expected, but I thought I was tougher than this.  Eww, that man over there needs to loose the spandex Daisy Dukes!  I guess I’m being judgmental now, but that’s an image I didn’t need burned in my brain.  Okay, end rabbit trail.

I will probably hang out at the mall today to stay cool.  Barnes and Noble should keep me busy until I’m caught loitering.  It’s Saturday, so it may be busy enough that I can stay under the radar.  See?  This is just another example of what I can’t experience.  A two week time frame isn’t long enough to really start being recognized as a homeless person, loitering inside a bookstore.

This really is a huge problem for suburban homeless people.  The only place you can really go to hang out all day, without spending money, is the library.  If you frequent and one place long enough, they will realize you’re loitering.  At first, they’ll start following you around, then at some point, they’ll ask you to leave.  The store management will describe your appearance in team meetings, following that with a discussion about company policies and procedures regarding “those people” that shouldn’t be allowed to stay in the store.  I know this not because I have experienced it, but because my homeless friends have told me, and I worked for a few of those companies.

One huge thing I am learning through this experience is that suburban homelessness requires a vehicle, which requires gas.  In the city, you can walk everywhere or take public transportation if you have the funds.  In suburbia, moving around costs money.  Everything is so sprawled out, walking sometimes just isn’t an option.  It’s not due to laziness either, it’s due to the heat.  I could walk a long distance, and I would be willing to if I didn’t think I would die of a heat stroke.  This issue reminds me of a book I found about 2 years ago called God’s Own Junkyard.  This book, originally published in 1964, basically talks about how the suburban city design is going to kill the American landscape as we know it, making community with others more difficult.  Man, was this guy a prophet!

After retraining myself on how to do math on paper, I calculated how much it cost for me to move around town.  The average “move” here seems to be around 5-6 miles.  Without getting too much into my math formulas, my vehicle is about $.25 a mile.  I’ve never hopped in my car and thought about how much it will cost each time I drove somewhere.  The average move is $1.50.  So, how about the lady that wanted to send me to the food bank in Plano?  That would have been about $3.75 one way, with no guarantee of help, then $3.75 to get back.  You want me to go to the closest homeless shelter?  That’s $7.50 one way.  And oh, by the way, they turn away 50 to 100 people a week, as they are operating at their maximum capacity.  If I have the $7.50, do I really want to chance it?

Have you ever thought about how much money it costs to drive your car everyday?  In suburbia, gas is a necessity.  There are no public transportation options here, although some suburban towns do have these options.  Most of those are to drive to the train station, then take the train the rest of the way to work.