Disappointment

So, you read all the feel good stories about drama and change and pathos, but you gotta know the truth -- there are plenty of disappointments and failures and insanity when hanging around the street.

"Jimmy" was a worker -- he had two jobs. Lousy jobs, yes, low pay, hard work. He was a weekend janitor for one of those crummy janitorial companies that use people up and don't pay very much because they're underbidding all the other crummy janitorial companies and to make any money at all they have to push people beyond reason to whip through the offices in a minimal amount of time. Monday through Friday Jimmy had it a little easier. He swamped out the viewing booths at an "exotic dance" and porno place. (To call what goes on under the classification of "dance" seems a stretch, from what I'm told.)

So Jimmy's working 56 hours a week, and at night he minds the door outside Nightwatch, keeping order in the line, acting as a bouncer, keeping drunks out. We were absolutely reliant on him during those days. Every single night.

Why we weren't asking questions, I don't know. Even at $9 an hour, the question could be asked. Why was Jimmy homeless?

Then in the spring he asked my co-worker to help him with his tax forms. Jimmy could not read a lick. I don't even think he could recognize his own name. Anyway, we laid out the various W-2 forms and 1099 forms, and added everything up and figured out that Jimmy had made something like $40,000 -- he was making more than me, thanks to him pulling his retirement money out too.

That's a lot of crack. That's a lot rounds for the house.

Things unraveled for Jimmy. He lost his jobs. He moved into public housing, and worked for a downtown bar for cash, minding the door again. I laughed when I saw him checking ID. He couldn't read his own name, and he's supposed to check out ID to keep the minors out of the bar!

Last I heard, Jimmy had lost his crib because too many "friends" were making late night visits. Wonder if he's still alive?