Life in the Homeless Shelter, Final Episode

This episode opens with the word Freedom because I agreed to move in with Dan. If the rental people accept our application, then we will be moving in to the apartment building across the street from the shelter.

I’m a little leery about only moving across the street from a comfort standpoint, but it has several good aspects: (1) it’s a daily reminder, and (2) it’s still within walking distance of the class I take on Wednesday nights (court-ordered anger management) and my job.

Dan and George were going to move in together, but on the way to signing the papers George decided to back out. I understand this really pissed Dan off, and I can understand that, but it just wasn’t the right time for George.

George wanted out of the shelter because he’s had a few complications lately. We’ve had a situation where people can’t get to sleep because the light is left on after 10pm or people are talking on their cellphones or texting or watching movies on their little DVD players or playing with their MP3 players (I know, where do they get all these gadgets?). George said something to the shelter manager on a couple of occasions, then the other night the manager came in at lights out and saw with his own eyes and said some things.

After the manager left the dorm that night, accusations started flying around about “the rat.” George said he was the rat. Then words went back and forth and the language got a little ugly. Randall had plenty to say. The word racist was thrown around a couple of times.

The whole mess really upset George. The continued to talk about him after he went to sleep on the couch in the lounge.

Last night at the 9pm Devotion meeting, the manager collected everyone’s electronic devices to be locked up for the night. This is actually in the rules, but they haven’t been enforcing that one because, before, there were no problems. This collection really pissed off a couple of guys and of course they blamed George (who was at work at the time).

We’ve had another ex-con in the lodge of whom I can find no mention in my previous posts. We’ll call him Country. Country spent three years in prison for passing a bad check while on probation. He literally got off the bus from the prison and walked to the shelter. He had been there three weeks until last night.

Country had a real problem with the rat situation. He was one of the guys who gave George a hard time, telling him he should be a man and deal with these problems himself.

After the phones were collected last night, Country decided he needed to have an argument with the shelter manager about how he runs the shelter. After a few minutes, Country got very angry and upset saying the manager wasn’t letting him speak. Then the manager really did stop letting him speak and Country decided to go outside. On his way he punched the steel door so hard that he dented it.

The police were called to escort Country from the shelter. His “old lady” (his words) picked him up.

Country’s “old lady” is actually a lot older than he is. He’s 21 and she’s probably 45. When George saw them at the grocery story where he works he asked Country if she was his mother. It was an honest questions which he unfortunately asked in front of the “old lady.” We all laughed about it at the time, as did Country.

Country suffers from an ailment I like to call “young guy disease” where he thinks that just because he has something to say that everyone is supposed to listen to him. If someone doesn’t want to listen to him, then they’re being disrespectful, and sometimes young guys get it in their head that they need to force people to respect them.

A note to people everywhere: You can’t control people anywhere.

You can’t control your spouse, you can’t control your kids, you can’t control your friends, you can’t control strangers on the street, and you can’t control a shelter manager. Get over it. The only person you can control is yourself, but when you freak out you’re not exercising that power.

You might be able to control someone’s behavior through anger and violence (or through kindness and generosity), but you can’t control what someone thinks.

As I’ve said before, I wanted to live alone. So why did I agree to move in with Dan? He needs a roommate. I sincerely believe that things happen for a reason. I found myself in a situation where I could help Dan and there was no concrete reason not to do it.

I’m not really excited about the apartment. It’s a one bedroom, so the living room is going to be a bedroom. Dan says I get my choice of rooms and I could have the big room if I wanted it. I think I’m going to take the small bedroom.

The small bedroom doesn’t have a heater. The living room has a gas stove heater and a wall air conditioner. I’m not too worried about cooling at the moment, but I’m going to have to buy an electric heater.

There is a bathroom, thank God, but I’m not sure “bathroom” is the right word. Maybe it should be called, “the can,” because it doesn’t have a bathtub or shower.

The place is only like $285 per month. There’s a deposit, of course. I think he said we’re splitting $585 to move in. That’s pretty inexpensive.

I loved my last apartment in Tulsa. It was perfect. It was perfect in layout — a perfect square. I like squares. It was the perfect size. It was in the perfect location in the complex (I thought). It was on the top, the third story, which I liked. It had a fireplace. It had a microwave. It had a shower. It was quite a bit more expensive than this new place.

Anyway, I’m going to be living with Dan for at least six months. Hopefully in that time I can help improve things at work and start making an income commensurate with my experience and contribution.

Maybe I should just pray that I will make a contribution worthy of commensuration.