Lost in Minneapolis

It was a cold Halloween night. I had been awake for over twenty-four hours. I didn’t know where I was on 35W. When I ran out of gas. In the center lane of the Highway. I got out of the Ford F-150 to push it to the shoulder and almost got ran over. “Fuck this,” I muttered as I got back in the truck and turned on my emergency flashers, and waited for the Highway patrolman.

“I’m so happy to see you.” I rolled down the window. The cop looked at me like I was a Space Alien.

“What are you doing stopped in the middle of the Highway?” He asked with just a touch of exacerbation in his voice.

“I ran out of gas, I tried to get out and push it to the shoulder and almost got ran over. I’m out of money, been awake over twenty-four hours and I’m done.” I answered.

“Let’s get you out of the way.” The Cop said as I released the brake and put the truck in neutral. I guided the truck as he pushed me to the shoulder.

The cop came back to my truck and asked for my Driver’s license, I waited in the truck while he did his thing.

He came back to the side of the truck a few minutes later and gave me back my license. “What are we going to do about this?” he asked as I put the license back in my wallet.

“I have no clue,” I answered with another shrug. “I just don’t know what to do.” The Cop thought for a minute then asked. “Where are you trying to get to?”

“I’m trying to get to the Salvation Army,” I answered wearily. The cop thought for a minute before he responded.

“Hang tight, I’m going to make some phone calls.” I nodded agreement and waited while he went to his patrol car. He came back five minutes later.

“How much money do you have in your wallet?” He asked. I opened the wallet that was still in my hand.

“One Dollar, that’s all I got.” He held out his hand, I handed the buck to him.

“I called in a few favors, a tow truck will be here shortly, just sit tight.” I thanked the officer and leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

A few minutes later a tow truck pulled in behind me, the tow truck driver and the cop chatted as a few gallons were poured into my gas tank. After he finished pouring the gas, he replaced the gas cap and wished the cop a safe evening, and drove off.

The cop returned to his car and came back to the side of my truck a few minutes later. “Here’s a map to the Salvation Army, in the future, please don’t stop in the middle of the highway.”

“Thank you so much, I appreciate your help.” I accepted the map and the cop and I fist-bumped then I was on my way.

It was surreal driving through Downtown Minneapolis with the streets crowded with costumed adults hopping from Bar to Bar. I envied the happiness that I was witnessing, but it just made me sad. After running out of gas again and getting another couple of dollars of gas through the kindness of strangers, I finally found the Salvation Army at around one or two o’clock in the morning.

I parked my truck and walked to the front door and was buzzed in as I was approaching the desk a man with a backpack was walking out. I barely noticed as I walked up to the Security Guard at the desk.

“May I help you? “The Guard asked quietly, He made me think of an ex-boxer, the impression shattered by his calm voice and mellow bearing.

“I hope so,” I answered tiredly with my eyes focused on the uneaten pizza sitting on the desk. “I need a place to sleep, haven’t eaten, or slept.” My eyes hungrily drifted toward the box of cold pizza sitting on the desk.

“Tonight’s your lucky night, the guy you passed on the way in freed up a bed just for you, have some pizza while I call and tell them you’re on the back there.”

“Thank you so much,” I answered as I accepted the box of day-old cold pizza. I was just finishing the first piece when the Guard hung up the phone.

“Take the pizza with you and head through those doors, he pointed to some double doors to his left. “Somebody will hook you up. Good luck to you.” I thanked the man and headed through the double doors into another world.

A cavernous room was full of men, some sleeping, some tossing and turning, most of the ones awake were talking to themselves. I walked to the two long tables at the side of the room. “I need a photo ID.” A young guy in his twenties with his bare arms covered in tattoos stuck out his hand while I got my license out of my wallet. He logged my name and gave the ID back. “Head to the end of the table.” I walked to the end of the table where another Security guy took my name and assigned me to a bunk.

I hauled my tired body up on the top bunk and began to devour the cold pizza, before it was gone, a young black guy in his late teens or early twenties in the bunk next to mine asked if he could have some, I slid the box over and together we finished it off. I took the empty box to a trashcan and crawled back onto my bunk. Within minutes I was fast asleep.

CHAPTER TWO

It seemed like I was only asleep a few minutes when the lights came on. “Rise and shine, I need those blankets.” One of the security guys screamed. I wondered what blanket he was talking about as I grabbed the handle of my overnight bag and headed to the toilet area to shave and take a piss.

After I got cleaned up, I headed to the lobby area, where I entered the building just a few hours earlier. There were coffee stations set up, so I grabbed a Styrofoam cup and filled it.

I grabbed an empty spot against a wall and sipped my coffee. There were two volunteers at a table, one of them asked for silence as he said a prayer. When he finished the prayer, the volunteers started to serve breakfast.

“Oatmeal or grits?” The volunteer asked. I didn’t think twice. I didn’t have anything against grits, I was born in Texas after all, but for some reason I chose oatmeal. I took my bowl and headed to the coffee pot, I was able to get a cup, not a sure thing, I found out.

I found an empty spot against the wall, then I ate my breakfast and drank my coffee. While I ate, I watched the men around me. “What the fuck did I get into?” I wondered it wasn’t the first time I thought that, and it wasn’t the last.

I wondered it wasn’t the first time I thought that, and it wasn’t the last.

The noise in the lobby was reaching a crescendo, I was wondering what my next move was when the security guys answered for me. “Clear the lobby.” They screamed, “The lobby is closed, clear the lobby.”

I followed the herd out the door into the cold, dark morning, it was a little after six A.M. I was still half asleep, so I did the only thing I could do, I went to my truck and climbed in, and locked the door.

Before I went to sleep, I took out my iPhone and was surprised to see that I could get a complimentary WIFI signal from a nearby business. I logged on and checked my Facebook page. Olivia was waiting for me.

“Are you okay?” She asked. I was too tired to be surprised, and I was too tired to wonder why a woman I had never met cared about me.

“I’m okay,” I answered. “I’m just very tired.” I yawned as I waited for a response.

“Well, hang in there, get some rest, I’ll talk to you later,” I said goodbye, then I fell instantly to sleep.

I woke up that afternoon, feeling like warmed-over death. I had a tremendous urge to pee, so I got out of the truck and went back inside the shelter to use the restroom. “May I help you?” The short doughy, fat woman asked.

My bladder was ready to explode. “Can I use the restroom please?” I asked, at that point, I was concerned about having an accident on the floor. That morning I got my real taste of shelter life.

“We’re closed.” The fat woman said, then she looked down at the magazine she was reading, dismissing me. I gritted my teeth, then I began to beg.

“I really have to go.” She lifted her head from the magazine and gave me a look of a serial killer before she takes a victim.

“I said we’re closed.” I didn’t say another word, I just left the building. I walked around the block, and saw an Auto Parts store, and made a beeline toward it. I walked in and headed to the counter.

“May I help you?” The employee asked. I looked anxiously at the men’s room door by the coffee machine.

“Can I use your restroom please?” The employee looked at me with a frown, he must have seen something in my face that spoke to his compassion, I know he must have had more than his share of homeless wanting to use his restrooms.

“Sure, go ahead.” He nodded toward the restroom door, but I was already heading toward it. When I finished, I thanked the man profusely as I headed out the door. I went back to my pickup and slept the rest of the afternoon.

I woke up tired and hungry. I grabbed the handle of the overnight bag as I got out of the truck and headed for the entrance to the shelter. I was relieved that the fat woman wasn’t sitting behind the counter. “May I help you? The man with the yellow t-shirt with “Security blazoned across his chest asked.

“I need a meal and a bed,” I answered. The security guy pointed to a doorway to a small waiting area with chairs lining the walls across from each other.

“Have a seat, you will know when it’s time to eat. When you’re done eating, come back here to wait for a bed.” I thanked the guard, then I had a seat and waited.

I kept my overnight bag close as I watched the room start to fill. When I worked as a security guard in Florida, I worked at some posts where my main duty was to run homeless people off the client’s property.

I looked for people; mostly men, wearing “the uniform.” The room began to fill with men wearing the all too familiar uniform. Worn-out jeans, ratty-looking jackets, and baseball caps, and the ever-present backpack.

The strange thing, I didn’t feel out of place or afraid. I somehow felt that being among the ranks of the homeless, people I once despised, was a just sentence for my arrogance and bad attitude.

As the room filled, it got louder. “Where the Hell is security?” I thought as the first of several young men walked down the aisle.

“Lao, Lao, Kush, Kush.” I didn’t know if he was buying or selling, but I soon smelled the stench of marijuana. The stench added to the noise. And soon; I had a headache.

I hadn’t eaten since I wolfed down the cold pizza the night security guard gave me the night before. My stomach grumbled as I sat waiting. As if a signal went through the room, everyone stood up and formed a line.

I grabbed my overnight bag, everyone else left their backpacks in their seats, but I wasn’t that trusting yet. I finally made it to the cafeteria. I don’t remember what I ate and I didn’t finish my meal.

“The dining room is closed.” The security guards screamed. I sadly looked down at my tray before standing up and taking it to the dishwasher’s window. I headed back to the waiting area with the rest of the men to get a bunk.

It was the same drill as the night before, only this time I was assigned a bottom bunk, and there was a blanket. I left my overnight bag by the bunk and headed to the toilet and shower area.

I came back and fell on the bunk and pulled the blanket over my head, using my jacket as a pillow. I wish I could say that I went right to sleep, but that wasn’t possible.

The lights were bright, and they must have been on another two hours. It was some than a dorm at summer camp. Most everyone was laughing and talking, somebody was playing Hip-hop as loud as the cellphone play.

“This is fucking nuts.” I thought as I pulled the blanket over my head, with my jacket as a pillow. I made my mind go blank as the noise got louder.

“It’s quiet time, it’s quiet time.” One of the guards shouted as the lights went out. After several minutes it quieted down, but it wasn’t that quiet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” One guy muttered loudly all night long, while other men were whispering to their bunkmates, or talking to themselves. I managed somehow to get some sleep.

That was pretty much what every night was like during that period of my homelessness.

This is a true story