Hard Knocks, literally

Slumming is hard.  

I've spent one night squatting, one night bumming on a friend's couch, one terrifying night in the jeep, two nights sleeping in a friend's car, one night on a tile floor, and last night on a couch on which, according to the owner, had once been afterbirth.  These are the homeless chronicles.

  

I don't think I would mind it if one of two possibilities were realized.  1)  If Chris actually ran and I could move around every (couple of) days I would be less conspicuous, or 2) If I didn't feel like campus security was after me.  

I wrote a story about my sole night in the Jeep, and put it on the blog oliofolio, which you should check out because it's cool.  I'm going to include the story here, and keep in mind, if you change '4th and Vine' for 'TVA parking lot' you've got an exact narration of what happened to me a week ago at 1:27 AM.  No change, I swear.  I can take no credit for even an ounce of creativity here.  Enjoy: 

She was awake and scared and somebody was yelling. Outside a light blinked on and the animal inside all of us instinctively pulled away from it. But she froze with a pain racing up her side, catching the breath in her throat.

The somebody was yelling again, and started banging on the window, “Is anybody in there?” The light moved a little higher, not quite penetrating the towel shut in the door, but she still felt uncomfortably visible. The light, a wide eye, cast the blue of the towel over the inside of the jeep, and she remembered; Evicted.

The scramble of a radio interrupter her. “Green to base, checking out suspicious vehicle on 4th and Vine.” Then louder, “Anybody home?” The light moved to stare into the window behind her. More banging. Her body tensed and she winced in response, sore from sleeping sitting up.

Then she saw it. A corner of the sheet shielding the passenger window had fallen. Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. The light was glaring through the back window now as the somebody circled the jeep. He’s going to see.

She mapped out all possible escape routes in her mind; a quick fix for the homemade curtain- but with what? Maybe just give up now, instead of letting the flashlight spot me cowering and trapped. Turn on the engine and make a cinematic getaway- if only I could be sure the engine will turn over. All the while, damning the neighbors for being afraid of the unknown and the cops for not having enough real work to do and whoever else she could possibly blame.

But she didn’t do any of those things. She was scared. She didn’t want to be there and she didn’t know how to get away. So she shut her eyes and went somewhere else.

When she was a little girl, her dad once-upon-a-timed her to sleep every night. No more banging or spying lights, only her father’s voice.

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess. This princess lived in a grand castle in the middle of a magical land, ruled by her father, a very wise, beloved, not to mention, handsome king. This princess was smart and good and her father loved her very much, so nothing bad ever happened to our princess. And of course she had her magic wishes- she’d close her eyes tight and

And the light was bright and staring her full in the face, pulling her back to that dark night in the jeep. The insides of her eyelids shown gold. Any moment she’d hear it, “You there; wake up. It’s illegal to park here. What’s your name, where do you live?” She closed her eyes tighter and

The radio garbled and an answer came, “Green to base. It’s a black jeep, license number FMZ 1394. Yeah, seems someone put up the curtains so no one would steal anything, but there’s nobody here. Just some blankets and stuff. I’m headed back to the civilian who called to explain the situation. Over.”

The light shut off and footfall faded. She was alone again in the night.