The other night, Stephanie and I did our usually Monday routine of going to Moore Square Park, handing out sandwiches and talking to people who hang out there. Most of these people are homeless. We do this every week and the people down there know us. They greet us as we walk up to them, we hang out and talk for about an hour, and at some point we hand out about a dozen sandwiches. Stephanie and I used to each eat a sandwich ourselves, but somewhere along the line the demand for the sandwiches eventually greatly outnumbered how many we would bring (We make really good sandwiches).
This past Monday night was interesting. As soon as we got there, Stephanie separated from the group to play in the leaves with a young girl. I was left standing in a circle with about 10 guys. One guy had a case of Ice House and started passing them out to everyone. Within a few seconds I was the only one in the circle without a beer. The man with the case noticed this and said, "Wait. Chris, I forgot about you. Did you want one?"
In just a fraction of a second lots of thoughts raced through my head:
Is it even legal to drink out here?
It has been a rough day at work. I could use a drink.
If I was with any of my other friends, what would I be doing right now?
I've had beer and wine with homeless guys before.
Am I pretending to be somebody I'm not when I'm down here?
I've tasted fresh moonshine in Uganda.
Why not?
And that's exactly what I said. "Why not?" The guys got a good chuckle out of this, and I felt this strange sense of community with the group as I drank my beer. There were all kinds of comments thrown out in the circle:
"I wasn't going to smoke in front of these two out of respect for them. I thought they were from a church or something."
"No, this guy is always drinking down at the Raleigh Times."
"Yeah, I've seen him there with my brother."
"Chris, man, now you know you're going to have to chip in next time we collect."
I began to realize that apparently there are eyes on the street, as well as embellishments. After that, things got a little weird. Someone pulled out a joint and some of them started passing that around. I also noticed money exchanging hands for something small that I suspect were drugs. These things never happened before, but somehow my status had instantly changed. They weren't ashamed to do anything around me. But oddly enough, they would still apologize to us after cussing, even while accidentally blowing smoke in my face while doing so. By the time we left, Stephanie and I smelled like we had just come from a Willie Nelson concert.
It's been a few days since this experience and I still can't decide how I feel about it. I have my own thoughts ranging from, "I'm an idiot," all the way to, "I should bring a case of beer to pass out next week," but I'm curious what others think. So if you've read this far, please make a stance on this issue and post a comment.
Notes for week ending 25-1-11
9 hours ago