The mission in Fort Collins, Colorado isn't pretty. It's old and worn and its roof leaks.
But I stayed there for a few days and tried to tolerate the idiotic woman who shared the room with me. She had an obsession with getting up at 5:30 every morning for no apparent reason. Then she would turn on the lamp and start reading a book, in bed.
I don't miss her at all.
I met a nice teller at the local Wells Fargo bank and told her about my plans. She wrote down the link to my blog and then shook my hand. Seriously. I thought about her when I visited the library, later that day.
Some people accept me...and some don't. But my value remains...no matter how anyone perceives it.
After I went to a center and got my new sleeping bag (which I love), I returned to the shelter and ate dinner. But when I walked into the women's side, I was told that because I was late getting back, they had given my bed away.
I mentally flipped that rat hole off and left.
After thinking about it for awhile, I finally boarded the last bus rolling out of that city. And when I was dropped off, I was about five miles outside of the city of Loveland, Colorado.
I stood underneath a mercury vapor light and stuck out my thumb toward the sea of oncoming traffic. A moment later, a young man in a red car pulled over and got me out of there.
"I'm on my way to an AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) meeting, wanna go?" he asked me with a wide open grin.
"I've never been to one before" I replied.
"Well, sister, you are now" he responded.
Twenty minutes later we were sitting in a circle with a group of other people. Coffee was poured and cigarette smoke lingered as the young man who picked me up, finally got up the nerve to say, "Hi, I'm Bob and I'm an alcoholic."