No Place to Go

I know what it’s like to be homeless because I was once homeless myself. And I’m here to tell you that it was hell! I arrived at the check-in desk of the luxury hotel around noon and I told my name to the annoyingly cheery woman who scrutinized a computer screen on the other side of the desk. After a period of silent suspense, she flashed me a resolute thumbs up to assure me that everything was A-Ok with my reservation. She said that I would receive a text when my room was ready for occupancy. I said that I was ready to occupy my room right now but she reminded me that check-in time wasn’t until 2 p.m. That meant that I had two hours to kill. So I went to the hotel bar and ordered a drink. As I sipped my gin and tonic, I wondered if I could enjoy it while seething over the fact that I gave in to bureaucracy so easily. I should have argued more with that woman behind the desk! What kind of force to be reckoned with was I? When I had an opportunity to speak truth to power, I just accepted defeat and walked away. There was another person sitting at the other end of the bar. I figured that he must also be homeless. But he didn’t look the part. He wasn’t bedraggled at all. He was clean shaven and dressed in a well-pressed suit. He looked like a businessman. I wanted to go up to him and express my solidarity with him as a fellow homeless person. I wanted to encourage him to be proud of who he was and tell him that he didn’t have to try and pass as a housed person. But before I could make a move, he finished his drink and left. So I finished my drink, but that had only killed 30 minutes. I was staring in the ugly face of the dreadful reality that I would still be homeless for another 90 minutes. Not knowing where else to turn, I went to the hotel restaurant and ordered filet mignon, medium rare. But when my server brought it to me, it was well done! Oh well! I ate it anyway and at least that killed about 90 more minutes. I received a text informing me that my room was ready for occupancy. And when I finally got to my room, I immediately flopped down on my king bed and reflected on my period of homelessness. Like I said, it was hell! I mean, I believe that hell is a place where filet mignon is abundant, but the only way they serve it is well done! (Please support Smart Ass Cripple and help us keep going. Just click below to contribute.) https://www.paypal.me/smartasscripple?fbclid=IwAR2qrql-UFH19OepgeaCG4WmblyNylb27k2q8eYxXHH