City Streets: Selfies with David

We’re in Chicago, and on our way to a Whole Foods. My brother and I have been traveling around the city with our whole family, so it’s a relief for it to be just the two of us. All I want is a salad bar.

On our way in we pass two men sitting about fifty feet apart, both requesting help of any kind. The second one spoke to us.

“Can you help?”

“I don’t have anything.”

“You can get something in there.”

“What do you want?”

“A hot breakfast sandwich and some juice? It’s hard, because I can’t chew.”

Once inside we realize that, since it’s 2pm, a hot breakfast sandwich will be hard to find. We put together two bags, each with a fortified juice, hot chicken, and some watermelon.

We hand a bag to the man who spoke to us, then head down the block to where the second man sits.

“Would you like some food?”

“Oh thank you!”

“May I sit with you?”

In only a few minutes, Duncan and I will cross the street, and stand on the corner of State and Huron, looking at a map on my phone to see where to go next, and I’ll regret not sitting with David longer. We have no plans to rush off to. I’ll regret not stopping to talk to the first man. But in this moment I sit with David, and try to make small talk.

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“You’re the most dapper man on the street that I’ve ever seen!”

He tells me about a man who bought clothes for him: four shirts, two suit jackets, and matching pants.

“And there was another man, he was on his way out of town, rolling his suitcase behind him, and he didn’t have any cash. But he gave me his shoes and they fit perfectly!” He straightens his legs, showing us the clean loafers on his feet.

I thank him for his time, and stand up.

“God bless you, both of you.”

We smile and say the same.

 

Grief on a Train: Meeting Marguerite

She’s the absolute picture of grief: petite, aged, black coat draped across her torso and fingers pressed against her lips as she looks blankly towards the curtained window.

“Are you alright?”

She shakes her head no, the tears springing up immediately. She opens up the slim volume in front of her– Psalms and Proverbs, maybe a few other books as well- and shows me a picture of a lovely woman, dyed blond hair, in her forties.

“My daughter,” she says, in an accented voice, “She’s had a five year battle with cancer.”

I’ve started rubbing her shoulder almost immediately. Her sweater is soft, and I try to make my eyes sympathetic.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She was only forty-seven. Too young…what’s your name?”

“Chloe.”

“I’m Marguerite.”

 

City Streets: Selfies with Spaceman

He sits on the corner with a helmet high up on his head, demanding change from the people walking down Hyde St. When I shake my head at his request, he said, “Well, how about a hug?”

There are broken CDs taped to the outside of his helmet, and as I hug him, I can see through the clear visor that it’s stuffed with various articles of clothing: a glove, a sock.”My name is Spaceman, and my helmet is good all over the universe. It works in space, but also on bikes and motorcycles and helicopters.”

I ask about about the metal chimes hanging from his chest, and he tells me he uses them to do Hare Krishna.

“Like this,” and he claps them together, beginning at tuneless chant of “Hare Kirshna Hare Krishna.” When a tall young man dances across the street in time with his chanting, Spaceman shouts after him, “Hey! How about some change for the music? I play, you pay!”

Spaceman tells me that he wants to buy something from the convenience store across the street, but he’s nine cents short. When I ask if I can take a picture from him, he insists I give him some change. I relent, but he hears the rest of the change in my wallet, and won’t even look at the camera before bargaining for more.

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“Where you goin’ girl? You gonna get on the BART?”

“No, I’m just filling up my Clipper card, then heading to yoga.”

“Oh right, gotta do your yoga. You’re probably a vegetarian and you eat yogurt.”

“I am a vegetarian, but I don’t like yogurt.”

“Yeah, well there are lots of things that you don’t like that you have to put in your body, because they’re good for you. Kids these days, they get drug education, sex education. I’m 64, and we didn’t have none of that when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, ok, I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. You eat your fruits and veggies.”

“I will. Bye, it was nice to meet you.”

But he’s already lost interest, and returns to badgering anyone who walks by.

 

City Streets: Selfies with Anthony

He was sitting on the ledge of a stone wall near the entrance to BART.

“How are you doin’ today?”

“I’m well, how are you?” I said as I passed by.

“Good, a little cold over here.” He was sitting in the shade, away from the hot rays of the sun. “Any change?”

I shook my head.”Sorry, I don’t have anything.”

“Have a good day,” he called as I walked away.

When I reached the corner and stopped to wait for the crosswalk signal, I realized I had coins in my change purse. I pulled out some quarters and walked back, sitting beside him and dropping the coins in his cup.

anthony

He gave me the two most recent issues of Street Sheet, a newspaper printed by the Coalition on Homelessness and given to homeless people, who then sell it on the street and keep 100% of what they receive.

It was his sixtieth birthday, and he said he was trying to earn enough to buy himself a burrito. I wish I had offered to take him out to dinner, but my mind was focused on getting to the hostel and setting my bags down.

Before I left, he gave me directions to the nearby farmer’s market, where he works two days a week. I hope I run into him again.