Downcastmysoul

Maybe Saint DOodleySquat isn’t so Blessed after all.

I almost felt like a hero starting out, I was reduced to a stray dog.

It was 10:30 am and the sun was shining brightly, which it would do for most of the day until it inevitably set.

I  had collected cans for hours and hours. Some were dirty, some of the beer cans still had beer in then that spilled on my shoes and clothes if I forgot to empty them before putting them in the bag. I not only looked like a “bum” collecting them (someone who thought I was homeless told me where to find some cans and said “God Bless You”) I SMELLED like a brewery. I stopped at every can I saw:  then, thinking I had enough to buy some coffee, decided to check out recyclers in my area.

I settled on the two I could walk to. The first one was in an area that I get perped in a lot for some reason and when I called them the man on the phone had a weird perp vibe. He was going to ask for ID just to redeem the cans, even though you do not have to show ID if you redeem cans only, not other metals–there the gubmint has already put out his long arm since a few were abusing the privilege somehow.

The other place, a quite a bit further away, not only took cans without ID, they were friendly on the phone and paid a walloping penny more a pound than the other place. Neither place paid that much more than the grocery store.

Years ago, when I redeemed a huge sack of cans the price paid for them was more it seemed. I think it was 50 or 60 cents a pound. It was only 36 cents where I went. The store is 20 cents but only a mile away and the coffee I needed was right there.  I only would have gotten a buck for the cans and the grocery store people try and cheat sometimes and they do “round down” your can price when it’s in doubt.  Still, between my store dollar and the fifty cents I had on me, I could have had one of those little foil packets of coffee that make one pot, or maybe two if you use a French Press and want to drink brown water.

Getting back to the story, so Sunday, I collected a lot of cans then Monday I called the two places then set out for the further one over fears of perps, essentially.

It was sunny and hot but I made the 6 miles in only a few hours. There were only a few people who looked like perps. I got into the place and got weighed and only collected 5 pounds of cans.

All that walking and stooping and smashing cans netted me less than 2 bucks, and now it was hot and I was 6 miles from home, on foot, and my water bottle was empty. I had to use half of my “pay” to buy a very large pop (on sale) to water up. It might have been 3 or 4 pm by then. I decided not to try to make it to the store to get coffee at that point since it was miles up the road towards home and the liquid was much more important to me at the time.

I sat and rested and drank the soda in the shade of a tree by a bike trail after using the mini mart’s facilities (strange how little pee we make when we are sweating).

I decided to take a more scenic route home using the bike path part of the way until I would turn onto a street that led the way across town. It was a mistake. I ended up backtracking and losing a number of blocks. (I now see why Google maps uses the streets they do even though the way Google says to go lacks sidewalks towards the end).  It was a beautiful walk and I ended up by a small lake teeming with dragonflies.  After I got back on the street I was hot and I sat in the shade again before turning onto the street that led across town.

That was when the trouble began.  It started off nice enough in a suprisingly semi rural/industrial area that was hilly and green from the recent rains.  I was 8 blocks beyond where I had turned before and I had to make up the blocks before I really was on the road home.  I walked to the top of a hill and there sat a train on the tracks, not moving or getting ready to move.  I decided it would be a good time for a long break in the shade so I sat and finished my book, and sat and sat.  The train would not move.

Cars came up to the tracks and turned around.  No one asked me anything.  Finally I went back to the sign that was blinking concerning the trains and it said that the “alternate route” was to use the interstate to get around the trains.  Not possible on foot.  I went back to the tracks and waited and waited.  Cars came up and turned around.  I even asked a local employee that was leaving an office around there about the train, and, after pretending not to hear me, he just said, “sometimes they sit there for 3 or 4 hours”.  Just great.

Cars continued to come up to the train and then turn around on both sides.  One wise guy managed to go under the train and be on his way (he was on a bike, guess he managed somehow, but I was too scared).  Finally, a railroad employee in a truck arrived and drove a bit down my side of the tracks and talked on his walkie talkie.  The train did not move.  I decided to lay down on the grass.  The train started to move.  I got up.  It moved a few feet then, stopped.  Just great.  I sat back down then lay back down.

The railroad employee decided to take off and said nothing to me.  I lay back down.  Finally the train moved enough to clear the track, but, ANOTHER TRAIN WAS SITTING ON ANOTHER TRACK BESIDE IT.  It wasn’t moving.  The sun was going down.  Cars with what looked like tough young people kept driving up to the tracks and turning around.  If they were to take notice of me I was a sitting duck.  Alone as I was the V2k and mind reading continued.  Always alone but never alone it seems.

It was a fine day and I sat next to a rose bush but the shit used the opportunity of my enforced idleness to fake voices and put me in hell for the hours I sat there.

A  young man who seemed to be a perp drove up to the tracks in a big black pickup and got out of the truck, stood there awhile, then drove off.  Looked like Hitler youth.  The sun was down.  Two young scary looking homeless guys came up to the track on foot and finally climbed over the cars and got to the other side.  The only notice they took of me was that one spat.

The minute they were about a block off the second train finally began to move.  They yelled something back that didn’t sound nice but I said nothing.  It was almost dark when the tracks were finally clear and I was able to go.  I still had most of the trip ahead of me.

I walked back down to the original turnoff and slightly past it and found the small emblem the perps use to show me they were “there” on the sidewalk.  Yes, way out there, in an area of town I rarely go.  Cars whizzed by shining their brights on my face.  I saw a small convenience store and decided to go in and use the phone.  A penny sat in the parking lot.  Looks like they were there as well.  The clerk was rude and would not let me use the phone.  Guess she had had a “visit” all the hours I sat by the track.

I walked on to a grocery store where I was able to make a phone call.  I was still miles from home and it was totally dark.  I had to make the rest of the trip home because if I sat there overnight at a bus stop I would get propositioned as a prostitute.  If I tried to spend the night in a park I could get jumped or run off by the cops since the parks “close” at 11 around here to discourage park sleeping.

Even though I had had a lot of liquid I still needed more and used my last dollar at another convenience store to buy another drink and use the restroom.  This clerk was much nicer but she seemed to perp me as she rang up my drink.  I sat across the street on some steps and drank it and watched a homeless? man wait for the bus on the other side.  He took no notice of me.  Every car that exited the convenience store lot shone it’s brights on me.

I felt better when I had my drink so I left for the 3 or so miles left to get home.  For some reason, after the train debacle, they flew by.  I was home at 11:30 after having walked between 12 and 13 miles at least and being none the better off coffee wise.  I was sunburned and one eye was red.  I tried my scale in the morning thinking at least all the exercise did some good.  I  had gained a pound.  I doubt I will try the can thing again unless I have someone in a car take me or can use the bus, but, the number of cans to even justify the bus trip nowadays, with the hugely inflated bus fares is astronomical.

At 36 cents a pound and about 30 to 32 cans a pound..hmm let me see…I got almost 2 bucks for like 150-170 cans.  I would need well over 300 cans or at least a full black garbage bag full just to pay for the bus trip.  Collecting cans is just not worth it.

If I was worth my weight in cans, how much would I get?  That is for me to know and you to find out.

I am upset at what my life has been reduced to.  I haven’t experienced this kind of hardship since I was a young runaway in a strange city way back in the early 1980s.  The whole day strangely reminds me of it.  Is life worth it?

What I have learned:

Always, always, always buy enough coffee for the whole month even if it looks like a ton at the time.

Food banks stock “emergency” food nowadays like pantry items.  No longer is it possible to get meat, cheese, or other such goodies like yogurt there, and never does a food bank give out coffee.

The food banks here seem to be using some sort of central source to get some of their food so it’s ripe for perp abuse.  I was put into some kind of database the first food bank I went to where I got the only dairy item of all four I visited:  eggs.  The only protein I got was a can of tuna at one of them, a can of beans at another, and dried beans at 2 others.  Beans are the musical fruit so I guess I”ll be “making music” a lot.

What you’ll get a lot of at some food banks is bread and goodies.  I guess the handlers want the poor fat and happy on starch and sugar but lacking in brain food like protein.