Friday

Can I help you?

"I'm not a divine father or anything, but I believe and stuff," this guy in a yellow t-shirt is telling me that he only wants to see a priest so he can say a prayer for his mother and it will only take a couple of minutes.  I do not suspect that he is lying.  "I know that all that matters anymore is money and that you used to be able to come and see a priest but it's not like that anymore, but can't I see a priest?  I mean, if he can't take the time to pray with me I would think that's almost sacrilegious."

I find a priest, and the guy in the yellow shirt asks him for money.

How can you answer the door in a city and not end up suspecting everyone of lying to you?

I read the other day that 75% of homeless people suffer from severe mental illness, and then there's the guy with 100 proof breathe and the drug addicts.  75% sounds about right.  I'm thinking of the guy who stood in the my office and stuck the brochure I gave him into his pocket, which was already full of papers and cardboard and maybe cigarettes and just stared at me for almost a minute before he responded to my question "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

No.  He stared into space for another minute with his bloodshot eyes then walked out the door, slowly.