Thursday, December 22, 2011

Ruthie On The Road, Update

I am not going to have a Christmas. I realize that now.

In fact, I am struggling to find a place where I will even be warm and safe on that day. It has gotten so bad in the United States that it is finally affecting even me.

I am disappointed with my own Country.

I will give you a road update, first. Then you will get a peek into what is going on in my world, right now.

The "meeting" with the woman, a viper in a formal suit, at the Salvation Army in that small Minnesota town...DID end up being a waste of time. I knew when I walked in and looked at her face, that she had no intention of helping me with a thing. She didn't care.

I asked the woman for assistance and she wrinkled-up her nose, which I am convinced is as tight as her ass (if you know what I mean) and tapped her fake nails on a form on her desk.

"Well" she sniffed, "Let's start at the beginning...why are you homeless?"

"You have no idea." I answered.

"Yes, that's why I'm asking you" she said.

She had no idea what I meant by my statement, either and she probably never will.

I felt myself drawing away from her.

"Ma'am, I only have so much daylight and if there's nothing that you can do to help me, then I need to get out there on the road." I said.

She shifted in her chair and glared at me. I looked right, straight back at her.

"I need to know the whole story before I can help you and it sounds like you don't want to explain yourself." she declared.

I thought about this blog...that turned seven-years old on the 16th day of this month...and smiled. So much of the story is in this creative effort.

But then I looked at her face again and I realized that even if she read a thousand posts in this blog, she probably still wouldn't get it. I know her kind...and because she doesn't really care...she never will get it. My reality is beyond her.

I stood up and picked up my plastic ID card off her desk.

"I've got to go. I just don't have a lot of time to waste."

"If you walk out on the highway, you will be arrested." she warned.

"Balderdash." I replied...and walked out to the highway.

A woman finally stopped and took me to Austin, Minnesota. It was a good ride, except for the fact that the woman was devastated about the impending death of her mother.

We discussed it and I believe that when we parted ways, I gave her some real comfort to hold on to. That was my good deed that day.

I was walking out of Austin when two women in an older car stopped and picked me up. They drove me to the Iowa border.

That particular border is situated between corn fields, a train track, a tiny town and a rural stretch of highway.

It took awhile but I finally got a ride with a woman who took me to a city hall in a small town. The people contacted a shelter and a lady who works with the shelter, drove up and got me.

The shelter is designated as a confidential location, so I can't give out much information about it.

But I can say that it is not all. The shelter has several floors...with too many steps...between each level. I had a difficult time getting around and I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay there.

So, yesterday, I ended up about 25 miles outside of that town, standing on the side of the highway, with my thumb out, once again.

The information that the shelter staff and I got was that a Salvation Army shelter, located down south, would be able to keep me through Christmas.

That won't happen now.

I hitchhiked to that shelter and met the clone of the woman in the Salvation Army office in Southern Minnesota. She wouldn't give me a bottom bunk unless I agreed to stay there for more than one night.

But I knew that staying there for more than one night was impossible. This is because I can't handle a top bunk. And because it is an overnight shelter, I would have to find a place to stay from 9am to 4pm...right over the Christmas holiday. And this shelter is located in a bedroom community with nothing to do and nowhere to go, except to somewhere else.

"So" said the woman with the sub-human genetics, "I'm going to put you in a room with a family, instead. You will have a bottom bunk in there."

"No, you won't." I said and got up and grabbed my backpack.

"Now it's dark outside and you have no choice but to stay here, tonight. So, you might as well accept it." she declared.

And once again, I told a Salvation Army employee, "balderdash" and walked right out the door.

No comments: