We missed today’s installment of “Rich and Nina” because of unexpected events this last week. In effect, I am not only out of a job but I am also living on the streets once again. My job was eliminated on Tuesday the 8th and I have been living on the streets since Saturday, the 12th. This will be my third evening living out on the streets after camping in someone's backyard for a little over a month. I have gotten used to it by now but wish that my situation were substantially different.
The events of last night are examples of what can all go wrong with the accommodations while living on the streets. There was a spot that I’ve slept at many times in the past that gave me a little quiet. I picked that spot particularly because it didn’t have a sprinkler system that worked – or so I thought. The night before, I slept at the very same spot and did not have a misencounter with any of the sprinklers. I was already sleeping when all of a sudden I started feeling water drench my crotch area. It surprised me a great deal because the last time I urinated in my pants was in my youth while sleeping. I heard the sputtering of water and the sudden gush on my pants. Only then did I realize there was a sprinkler head underneath the carton that I had laid on the ground.
Within seconds the spot where I was laying was flooded with a thin sheet of water. After discarding the carton, I walked about 20 minutes to a park that I recently discovered but never slept at. No more than a few minutes after I had settled, the field sprinkler went off sequentially to cover the whole area of several football fields. I tried finding a spot but found either a sprinkler close spitting water furiously or the ground was already wet. I tried sleeping on one of the benches but the wind made it miserably cold. So I took off.
By this time, it was already 3AM. There wasn’t a single car traversing the streets of Aliso Viejo. I walked through the center of town just to see if I could find a spot and decided to settle on a bench beside Staples. I was able to position the shopping carts in a way that partly concealed me from view. I tried to sleep and had swatches of solid sleep but was interrupted by the street sweeper and the sudden spewing of a sprinkler at the end of the bench. It was facing the opposite way so I didn’t have to jump out of the bench. It wasn’t until just before 6AM that I left after hearing a couple of the employees waiting for the manager to open up the store. One gentleman in particular who I would trade pleasantries with on my many trips to their store looked at me funny. We just traded a generic, “Hey, how you doin’?” “Fine. How are you?” There was none of the other sharing of life’s many vagaries that gave us both the opportunity to share our version of the human condition. It was a moment of revelation – the moment he discovered I was actually homeless.
It was harshly wintry that morning at so many levels.
VIEW ALBUM OF THE ATTACKING SPRINKLERS
Within seconds the spot where I was laying was flooded with a thin sheet of water. After discarding the carton, I walked about 20 minutes to a park that I recently discovered but never slept at. No more than a few minutes after I had settled, the field sprinkler went off sequentially to cover the whole area of several football fields. I tried finding a spot but found either a sprinkler close spitting water furiously or the ground was already wet. I tried sleeping on one of the benches but the wind made it miserably cold. So I took off.
By this time, it was already 3AM. There wasn’t a single car traversing the streets of Aliso Viejo. I walked through the center of town just to see if I could find a spot and decided to settle on a bench beside Staples. I was able to position the shopping carts in a way that partly concealed me from view. I tried to sleep and had swatches of solid sleep but was interrupted by the street sweeper and the sudden spewing of a sprinkler at the end of the bench. It was facing the opposite way so I didn’t have to jump out of the bench. It wasn’t until just before 6AM that I left after hearing a couple of the employees waiting for the manager to open up the store. One gentleman in particular who I would trade pleasantries with on my many trips to their store looked at me funny. We just traded a generic, “Hey, how you doin’?” “Fine. How are you?” There was none of the other sharing of life’s many vagaries that gave us both the opportunity to share our version of the human condition. It was a moment of revelation – the moment he discovered I was actually homeless.
It was harshly wintry that morning at so many levels.
VIEW ALBUM OF THE ATTACKING SPRINKLERS
