Screaming woman, dog, shady cars by the park at 3 am
Same old same old
Go to storage, grab the new viola, throw night bedding into the stink pile clutter
Hit the gas station for coffee if one can call it that
Jump on the bus and all the tedious motions of juggling my shit
Deal with the fellow riders in the least misanthropic way possible, the scum and normies
Did the bus driver say hello? Or acknowledge your existence? Kudos
Then of course as I slowly ride my crapbike toward the co-op along the sidewalk, a car not looking both ways runs into my bike. There is no driver, just a perplexed woman, dumbfounded.
I say Tut Tut and wag my finger, another 30 feet to a major crosswalk by the fucking dry cleaners, a right turn for moi
There's another clueless driver blocking the crosswalk, and she gets a piece of my mind. She's sorry!
So avoiding her planet killing steel exoskeleton, crossing Thurman, lo and behold: the dumbass from 30 seconds earlier is again infringing on my super Legal path to work
I note their license plate and carry on, finally at my destination, greet my chums taking their 3rd break of the shifty
I set up my new viola by the parking lot full of rankles, there's ten scrappy can people with garbage everything. Garbage clothes, trash filled shitcarts, dangling cigs, scabs and half smiles, as per typical
The red-faced manager is in full swing, this is precious stuff, the stuff of Operations and power.
I look to the store's lone entrance/exit and there's a giant fro with a card board sign with their back to me, he's working the handle of this greasy yuppie spoon
The Bob is soon there, asking hey do your thing there feet back, off the property. No go, the guy points at the BLM poster in the window. I can't hear details, but I read body language ok
Fro stands his ground, kinda trespassing, the Bob retreats, as per feckless status quo
I just want to play and try out my new new, so I do do
A five, a few ones, but I watch sucker dupes hand shakedown clown probably the same as he perches 6 foot 2 inches no mask in the ...
(Coda) Rick in the wheelchair from a few nights ago arrives
... Covid breezeway of commerce, and I just carry on, making music until the bladder says go potty
And then upon exit I set my belongings on the table to busk, my business and trade, about 6 feet from the panhandling please poor stranger come to harvest the guilt ridden betteroffs
I ask " how long ya been homeless," as his pitch goes. Silence and the turned back, still unaware of what his cardboard sign reads
He goes forth and back to the table along Thurman, this time for good. No eye contact or nuthin
I play.
He stares into the store by the Dignity at some imagined hostile for grocery clerks, a lesbian a pregnant woman and the other working class front line clucks
I've been "here" a year. This is my invoice.
Out the entry/exity comes Bob and the new meatgirl, her hand wrapped hastily, into his big truck in rockstar parking. The panhandler goes to close the passenger door for the finger bleeding worker with a punkrock hairdoo. "She's got it" I opine
___
Rick shows up here by Our redwood tree as I recount (very non-rudylike) the way it happens
He's got his wheelchair and foot in boot, and earbuds, ya been drinking today Rick?
People don't understand me, he offers? Complains?
Remember the two police visits 3 nights hence, nope. And away he sails, Capt. Of non fortune.
____
Messaged w/ a daughter today.
It's a good day.
____
Forgot to shout-out the all grey ninja interloper at samesaid picnic table, steel pole in backpack, who is undone when two Asian teens saunter up and sit next to his anonymous obvious.
Pdx style guide of conformist anarchistry fully agrees, one hand clappy.
_____
"Enjoy your privilege" was the last straw for this "homieless." Balding hippie knownada me.
Soft War <Portland%
NW and SE environs,
9-today-2021
