The Day I Grabbed a Bite With My Homeless Friend

Jim had long and messy hair. A blue pair of shorts covered his lengthy and skinny legs. His dusty face and hands reminded me of a member of my extended family, whose grooming skills weren’t necessarily admirable.

He had a flat stomach and dirty nails, like those one gains when there’s no money for food, or water for a shower.

As I walked past the parking lot, my eyes witnessed the cruel scene. There was a sickening smell of motor oil and feces. A couple of big black dogs lurked him and his friend, both sitting on the ground, inspecting their toenails.

My eyes couldn’t believe how comfortable and happy they seemed to be in that corner. I was amused to hear more laughter from them, than I did the whole day.

I wanted to walk away. I told myself: Not the right time, you have a nice Chianti -probably with some cheese- waiting at home. There was something about him, about his smile, about the way he enjoyed that moment with his friend, that made it impossible to head away from. Having somewhere to go, something to put in my stomach, made me feel guilty.

Dolce far niente — as the Italians would call it, is the act of finding pleasure on doing nothing at all. It’s sitting back and enjoying the ride, whether it’s a limo or a bus. It’s laying down after a big meal and contemplating the horizon, while fulfilling the moment. That is exactly what my friend-to-be was doing. He was definitely dolcing his niente.

Hey! What are you guys up to? For some reason, was the 1st thing that came out of my mouth. And as soon as it did, it made me feel so stupid.

I had managed to embarrass myself in front of two homeless guys, I had never seen before. What was I thinking? They don’t even have a place to sleep or some TV to watch. They had all the time of the world in their hands.

Surprisingly, they both had zero intentions to make me feel unwelcomed. I’m down for some food Jim said. Are you a cop though? Soon after, he had accepted my invitation for a burger, and perhaps a beer or two. His friend had things to do, places to be.

Just thinking of a place that wouldn’t judge his appearance, or me for bringing him there, made me nervous. My self-consciousness wanted to make sure I was using the right words and addressing him the right way.

His nonchalant attitude towards life was so inspiring — or at least, I was naïve enough to believe it was by choice.

Where do you go with somebody barefoot? Would he want to sit indoor or outdoor? How do I make sure he feels safe enough to let go and enjoy? I was so anxious, I had ignored his excitement for sitting down at a restaurant and having something to eat, for the 1st time in so long.

A couple of hours later, I had learned he was what my mom would call “A good man”. He was 52, never been in jail, never been in a fight.

His partner died 10 years ago, and a consuming addiction to Oxycodone had ruined his financial and emotional stability. His problem had quickly escalated to Heroin, which made him sell everything he owned -and more- to satisfy his addiction.

Jim made me laugh and cry, over the same meal. Stories from back when he used to teach English were filled with emotion and pride, as he remembers those days as the most problematic, but rewarding of his life.

His memories contained fun anecdotes about teenagers, and how horny they can be. It all seemed so vivid and real; like it had happened weeks ago. He was once seduced, or at least attempted to, by a 13 years old girl, who was reluctant to spend summertime in a classroom.

He had seen it all, from child-abuse, to teen abortions. He also bragged about getting “Teacher of the Year” several times, during his 16 years of experience. I was jealous none of my teachers were as cool as this one seemed to be.

Daphne was the love of my life. She left way too early. His wife had passed away from Breast cancer, after 5 long and painful years fighting with chemo. I never stopped loving her, not even when she hated herself.

His effort to hold the tears down had failed him. His sadness was making him more human, and less scary.

Jim had so much charisma and humor on him, we could not stop chatting and laughing. His stories went from bad nightmares most of the nights, to sex under a public bench for food, and everything in between.

It saddened me to hear how many times and by how many people, he was called a crackhead, useless, an addict, scum. The optimism in him confused me and motivated me at the same time.

As we drove back “home”, he thanked me several times. His eyes were happier than ever, as I dropped him on the same block I had found him hours before. His two dogs and mysterious partner awaited him.

When waving goodbye, I imagined what most parents feel dropping their kids at summer camp, only this time my kid was 52 and needed a shower, and new clothes.

I have learned so much from this guy, it was hard to believe it all started earlier that evening, after a guilt trip, and curiosity for his life.

* * *

That dinner had served as an eye-opener to a huge problem in our society: most of us think of homeless people as monsters with two heads, or evil flesh-eaters, as most movies are trying to teach us.

Addiction is a disease, like diabetes or cancer, and it needs to be un-demonized and properly treated.

If you are reading this, you are luckier than Jim was. You probably have a strong support system, with parents, siblings, friends, and family eager to help, when needed the most.

Having a roof, warm food and a daily bath have all become so ordinary, that we tend to underestimate it. It becomes easy to forget that some people aren’t as fortunate.

Second chances are rarely given. Alcoholism and other addictions are constantly pointed as weakness, in a culture that celebrates porn stars and influencers, while condemning firefighters, teachers, doctors, nurses (and many others), if they dare to be flawed.

Citizens in a society are like players in a football team. Some are stronger than others, a few will be taller than the rest, and a number might be better off sitting on the bench, waiting for their turn to shine, perhaps with more training, or different cleats.

Nonetheless, we are all necessary to win as a team, and deserve a chance to play, or maybe two.