A puzzling blast of midnight text messages last night could have had me annoyed or worse. They were from Mel., who wrote to say that she had seen our friend Gary on the subway. She said that he must have been pretending to be homeless or something because his short was so filthy. I texted right back, letting her know that Gary really is homeless and has been for at least a couple of years.

I could have been annoyed because I told her this directly to her face at least twice. Both times she displayed the same glassy-eyed reaction, acting as if I had not said anything, and changing the subject. It might have puzzled or perturbed me but this was not an uncommon reaction from her, especially when she was drunk, though I don’t remember thinking she would have been loaded on booze at either of the moments I told her this sorry bit of news. Other stuff, maybe, but not booze. Whatever she may or may not have been on it is obvious from last night’s text conversation that she had no memory of me telling her that our friend Tiff. saw Gary on a subway a few years ago. Tiff. said it was one of the freakiest encounters of her life. Tiff. moved from NYC 4 or 5 years ago, and was in town to see her GF complete at a long distance swimming event that ended at Roosevelt Island. Tiff got on the F train there and next thing she knew Gary was in her face, talking a mile a minute. He looked like classic homeless dude, with hair everywhere, smell of piss, an overcoat that could house a small city, and a stream of words that almost made sense at the time but didn’t add up until later.  Their encounter lasted about 45 seconds.

Gary’s mother had kicked him out of the house. Then she moved back to India. Then she died. From what he said it sounded like it was that last incident that put him over the brink.

He is still homeless but today he is one of those guys you see in Times Square dressed up as I don’t know what, maybe Spider Man or Elmo. He was mentioned in the NY Post as being a casualty of an NYPD crackdown on low level drug dealings. He was not a dealer, just a buyer, but he was summonsed a few months ago  for possession of marijuana.  The Post said he had a record of 15 arrests. He is 36 years old now.

Melissa’s reactions to me telling her this exact same story via text versus in person could have puzzled or even offended me, though as I said she had similar brick wall reactions to other storie I’d told her. But it reminded me of a conversation I had with Juan, the owner of Sunswick, the bar where all of the parties in this story first met. I had trouble carrying any kind of conversation with Juan, but there was one exception: after Sandra’s funeral.  (Sandra was best friends with Mel., the one who texted me last night to say she thought Gary was playing a homeless person roleplay game with himeself on the N train).

After Sandra’s funeral Juan and I had a rambling back-and-forth conversation about everyone we could remember having ever passed through the doors of Sunswick. It was soothing and calmly cathartic to rattle off this list of mutual friends and acquaintances, to finally find a common ground for conversation with this guy,  and to actually and honestly laugh at the things he had to say about some of the people we had known.

When we got to the subject of Gary, though, I think I could see why it was I could never carry on a conversation with him. Juan explained that Gary had been at Sunswick back in January and that he had to kick him out because other customers were complaining about the stench. Gary must have smelled awful, just as Tiff. described him that day on the F train.

Juan told this whole story through a bit of a chuckle. I asked him “You know Gary’s homeless now, right? Like, completely, no roof over his head?” Juan kinda waved that off and briefly continued with the tale of kicking him out of Sunswick. We moved on to other alumni from that memorable place and time in my life and those of others who have come and gone.

I texted Tiff. this a.m. to both joke about and complain that Mel. had no memory of me telling her — twice! — of Gary’s plight. I compared it to Juan’s vaguely similar reaction, at first suggesting that my low-voiced monotone delivery might be to blame. Tiff. would have none of that. There is a lot of hyperbole around homelessness. When I said Gary was “homeless” those guys probably defensively thought I meant he was living with his parents or sleeping on a relative’s couch, not on subway cars and in abandoned driveways.

“Homeless” means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. So, too, do the words “unemployed”,  “single”, “ignorant”, and “happy”. You can be homeless with the comforts of home, unemployed with all the money you need and/or a steady income, single with a coterie of lovers, and happy with no goddam reason to be so. It depends on statistics, societal comforts, and whose purposes these biases serve.

Statistics are biases? You bet.

…

At a bar with CCR on the Pandora. Tired as hell after a night of tortured non-sleep. Had a rambling dream aout being in a basement with every strand of extended family, but with one new addition. A super hot blonde who was not a blood relative, not even close. Something like cousin’s husband’s niece twice removed. She sucked cock as a nervous tic, and to assert her role in the family tree. It was one of those dreams such as I have not had in a very long time. early 2000s?.

…

Got some inspirational halleluiahs from Speed and his compatriot. They seem to appreciate my knowledge of the NYC payphone scene but want to water it down a bit by interrupting the guided tour with an incoming call to a payphone we just happened to be passing, I guess that’s how tour guides work, they are entertainers, and that’s cool. but alas, no incoming calls allowed at almost any NYC payphones, so I will advise them to explore ways of installing a fake ringer at a payphone and take it from there. They want to have Speed talking like whatever when, what? a payphone rings and he answers, putting the caller on some kind of speakerphone. The speakerphone can be done (crudely) but the incoming call can only be coordinated with help from CityBridge or Telebeam, who would be hard to get through to since they benefit NIEN from any such arrangement which temporarily allows incoming calls to one of their phones… but if Speed and Alex know people in the biz or know how to get to know people in the biz then maybe they can get it done.

Going home… Going home…