Homeless Encounters

there are a lot of homeless people in los angeles. in fact, an estimated 254,000 men, women, and children experienced homelessness in los angeles county during some part of the last year, and approximately 82,000 people are homeless on any given night.

so, depending on where you live and what you're doing, chances are good that you will encounter/see a homeless person on any given day. for me, living in hollywood, it's pretty much a guarantee every time i leave my house...like today.

now the homeless in hollywood are a particularly diverse bunch, ranging from the packs of runaway teens to the creepy woman who sits in her wheelchair near the post office cradling a puppet in her lap and everything in between (including, but not limited to: the down on their luck, the alcoholics/drug addicts, the soon to be famous, and the schizophrenics -- the puppet woman may or may not be a member of this group...she may or may not be a member of the second to last group too).

now, how i interact with a homeless person tends to vary depending on which of the aforementioned groups i think they belong to.

for instance, i tend to not give homeless people money (at least not directly) because i don't like being lied to and the reality is i just can't trust whether or not they are actually a "down on their luck" person who is going to use the money to buy food, or an "alcoholic/drug addict" person who is going to use the money to buy alcohol or drugs (the exception to this case is the rare occasion where i've come across a homeless person with a sign that reads something to the effect "not gonna lie, need money for booze." i pretty much always give that guy money if for no other reason then to reward his honesty).

i have a little more sympathy for the homeless youth, even though i know there's still a chance that if i give them money they'll use it for something other then what they claim. which is why when i run into them outside the grocery store, instead of giving them money, i'll often just buy them a jar of peanut butter or some cheese.

the hardest group to interact with, as you may have already guessed, are the schizophrenics...mostly because they don't interact with you as much as they just shout stuff incoherently in your direction.

when i encounter a homeless schizophrenic, i usually keep my head down, quicken my pace, count my blessings that neither i nor anyone else i care about is a homeless schizophrenic, and bemoan the fact that we as a country don't do more to provide better care for the weakest among us.

then again, usually when i encounter a homeless schizophrenic they are standing on a corner or sitting on the sidewalk or lying in some alley, as opposed to say repeatedly kicking the front passenger tire on my car, which, coincidentally, is how today's encounter with a homeless schizophrenic began.

i had gone to cvs to pick up a few things and upon pulling into the parking lot noticed a homeless person standing in said lot exhibiting all the classic signs of schizophrenia (incoherent speech. check. neglect of personal hygiene. check. angry outbursts. check).

but he seemed to be mostly keeping to himself so i didn't pay him too much attention when i parked and went inside. once inside it was business as usual, i collected the items i came for, waited in line to check out, told the cashier i did not have my cvs card on me, and paid. and that's when things got interesting...

i exited the store and there he was kicking the shit out of my front tire (pausing every few seconds to scream at it). slowly, i approached trying to determine what the best course of action was. eventually, i decided i would first try talking to him. after all, he was, regardless of his condition, still a human being.

"sir, um, excuse me, that's my car your kicking."

no response.

i tried again, "excuse me, sir, can you please stop kicking my tire, i'd like to leave."

this time he stopped. he looked up at me and for the slightest of moments i saw what i thought was the glimmer of recognition behind his eyes that reminds people to not repeatedly kick the tire on a stranger's car.

but, alas, the moment soon passed. he screamed something at me that sounded like "gorillas don't run up hot dog nation" (though i could be mistaken) and returned to the task at hand, kicking my tire.

at this point i paused to regroup and consider my options (i also made a mental note to consider getting one of those car alarms key chains, my thinking being had i had one of these alarms and pushed the button on the key chain, the alarm probably would have scared him away):

option a. call the police -- upside, a presumably safe solution to resolve the situation. downside, i'd have to wait for the police to show up and probably would be stuck dealing with the situation for a lot longer then i would have liked.

option b. try and lure him away from my car by any means necessary and in the ensuing chaos make my escape -- upside, a presumably quicker resolution to the situation. downside, results not guaranteed, let alone guaranteed safe.

well, suffice to say, i opted for option b (with the caveat that if i was still trying to get him away from my car for longer then 5 minutes i would initiate option a).

so i reached into my pocket, pulled out a handful of change, yelled "hey" at the man, and when he turned to look at me i threw the change away from my car towards the far end of the parking lot. he watched transfixed as the change landed with symphony of clangs, he then mumbled (incoherently) and returned his attention to my tire (i.e. kicking it).

now, had this encounter taken place a couple of weeks ago, this moment would have probably signaled the end of my attempts to distract the homeless guy and get him away from my car without having to resort to calling the po-po. BUT thanks to the awesomeness that is my messenger bag, i still had one more card to play.

i opened up my bag and searched through its contents looking for something that i could use, and there at the very bottom of the bag was the super bouncy ball i had tossed in a few days ago in case i was out and about and in need of keeping myself entertained (also now in the bag for these purposes: silly putty, a slinky, and a yo-yo).

i pulled the super bouncy ball out (it was one of those rainbow colored ones), once again yelled, "hey," and then threw...

guy took off chasing after it like it had the secrets to life contained inside.

quickly, i ran around to the driver's side, unlocked my car, and got in. i looked up just in time to see him finally corral the ball into his hands, and he looked up just in time to see me start the ignition.

for a moment we both stared at each other, like something out of some bizarre david lynch western movie not yet made. then he blinked and took off running away from me and out of the parking lot, super bouncy ball still in hand.

i watched for a moment as he continued to get further away, and as i watched i considered where on the scale of exploitative and inappropriate behavior my choice to essentially treat this man like a dog by luring him away from my car with a modified game of fetch fell.

eventually concluding that he seemed a lot happier with the super bouncy ball then he ever did kicking my tire.