A couple walked up to me tonight, he had his arm around her, she was pressing against him. They looked older than they were. They walked up to me with hope and sadness in there eyes telling a story of loss I couldn’t begin to speculate on. They seemed frail and weary and the last thing I expected them to ask about was my comedy show.
“You have a comedy show tonight?” They asked. “I do would you like to hear about it?” I said with all the pep and confidence you would expect from a salesman and the tenderness of understanding and foresight you wouldn’t.
The woman shrugged, they looked at me again and said , with meek but sincere smiles they struggled to maintain through out our conversation, “We just really want to laugh” and I could tell written on their faces the word need where want was spoken.
I began my show description no longer in the tone of a salesman but with the soft voice of hope, making certain to take any hint of patronization or pity out of my voice and leaving only tenderness and reassurance, listing off the names of the comedians as if to say “for a night, yes, yes I can help you forget.” I toyed with the idea of giving them the tickets out of my pocket but that just seemed like pity to me and these two deserved better. I cut them the best deal I could and it was still the saddest sale I had ever made.
The remainder of the night was spent with militant determination. It was a Sunday and the kick off of football season and if we didn’t sell enough tickets (which was entirely possible under these conditions) we wouldn’t have a show...and I needed that couple to have a show.
It turned out to be a better sales night than was expected and moments before show time I saw that couple across the street laughing with some friends, truly enjoying the night in a way only two people determined to focus on the joys of the world could. They drank in the laughter, it moved their entire being, they were savoring it as if it were their first drops of joy after a long and tedious drought.
...it was a good night...
I love you all
KH-
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
New York Yr 1 Day 20 "On The Road"
To catch you up here is my situation. For reasons I will not get into I was forced to leave my apartment. In the mean time I have been sleeping on my friend’s couch until his roommate, who desperately wants to move out (they don’t get along) moves.
A couple days ago my friend Reagan’s roommate (lets just call him Hoggel because well...he is an angry little troll) got a wild hair up his ass and decided he wanted to squeeze me for money. I had been sleeping on this couch un-protested for a month and the only reason I wasn’t looking for other places to live is because Hoggel said he was going to move. Now Hoggel has moved his move day again and again to the point of it being an indefinite situation...some how, for some reason this justifies him throwing me out on the street with no warning. I would have had no problem paying Hoggel and Reagan for my time on the couch but Hoggel brought it to Reagan before he brought it to me and Reagan, the kind soul that he is, refused that thought out right and began his defense of me.
I was caught un aware and off guard by all of this but I could hear them arguing in the living room while I was in Reagan’s room...brought there by Amanda so we could both avoid the fight because this altercation was about much more than me. I could hear hoggle flippantly decided my fate. When Reagan had said his peace I walked out and Hoggle, with all the authority a troll can muster, says “hey listen man you gotta get out.” I was in the kitchen...I set my fork down...”That’s not going to happen” I say. “Excuse me?” He says...I sit down in front of him and begin explaining the situation. I begin explaining to him that what he is doing is wrong and childish.
What happened after that I don’t know because I went red I do know that in an instant I decided to pack my shit. He had already called the police the second I wanted to talk about leaving instead of just leaving. I brought my things down stairs and smoked a cigarette while Amanda tried to talk me down from boarding the next flight to Illinois. The cops came told Hoggel he had no legal grounds to kick me out and went along there way to do some real police work.
I didn’t care...I couldn’t stay in that apartment. I went to Amanda’s had a relatively normal day and than had a lovely evening at a diner. I was jonesing for a diner for some reason and it was all I could have hoped for. It did what diners do, it reminded me of every beautiful ragamuffin I have ever met, it’s food was just as amazingly mediocre but in the perfectly charming way. That night I was to stay at Amanda’s again but once again my presence was a point of contention.
Something broke in me. I should point out here that the reason I lost the first apartment was a series of unfortunate events but it was through no fault of my own. So here I am, feeling like a leper, a scum bag, a leach. But this isn’t “Kyle still isn’t on his feet when is he going to get it together?” No, I had it together, I had a place and I was on a lease and that all went away. I felt as if every strip of dignity had finally been taken from me. I felt like I couldn’t put my head down anymore. I didn’t have anymore “thank you ma’am and thank you sir” for people who collect favors and enjoy making themselves better than others in me. I couldn’t feel helpless and take charity one more night. I refused to stay one more night in a place where I wasn’t 100% welcome. Reagan and Amanda would house me till judgment if they had to and I would do the same for them but this wasn’t about them.
I grabbed my bag and went right back to that diner. I was going to sit in that diner all night...what I was going to do after that night I wasn’t sure...maybe stay with a different friend I hadn’t decided but I knew I was done feeling this way...I needed to reclaim my dignity by doing something undignified and have my first truly homeless night in New York City.
I scribbled in my note book as the night went on, as I drank my coffee and read “On The Road” by Jack Kerouac (the irony wasn’t lost on me). The remaineder of this blog is what I wrote last night and today.
-------------------------------------around 1:00AM riding the Q to atalntic ave----
When I die I want people to say I had integrity. I want to be a man known for living life as completely as I could with as much integrity as I could muster. I want to be known for handling being road weary with grace.
But what I want today is my dignity back.
-------------------------------2:37 at the Diner------
It’s only 2:37 how will I make this night?
---------------4:00AM------
Piano man just came on the radio. It’s 4 AM, I’m in a 24hr Brooklyn Diner reading On The Road listening to Piano man and drinking diner coffee tasting the way only diner coffee can taste. I’m tired, road weary, fed up and waiting for morning...
---------------Around 5:00 AM------------
I’ve started to nod off here and there. Thankfully I’ve been so into my book the diner staff haven’t noticed. I dreamt of being held by a beautiful blonde woman. She holds my head to her chest, stroking my hair, kissing me and telling me everything will be okay. An angel come to help me heal even if just for a little while.
I hate myself a little for having this dream, for needing...
My thoughts of healing always go to women. I hate that I let women define me. I don’t think that's so much of a problem these days though. But I do find myself believing that I need a woman. I’m almost certain this has something to do with my mother or the fact that I was raised by women. Or maybe it’s just because the female archetype has always been the symbol of healing and tenderness. “god and the goddess” “Mother” earth ect.
I do love women though. There is something achieved in my friendships with women that I haven’t tapped into with men yet and I don’t quite know what it is.
------------------------around 5:30 AM---------
Why am I here in this diner?
I can no longer let small power crazed control freaks strip me of my dignity. If I am not 100% wanted some place I refuse to stay there anymore. I have no more “keep your head down” in me. I will no longer let these people hold some kind of assumed power over me. I can’t do it anymore...I wont.
The real reason is the rug was pulled from under me and now I’m struggling once again to forge a tangible place in the world and have been driven to my breaking point. I NEED to start winning my dignity back.
Fuck em’ I know who loves me and I am so thankful for them...anyone that isn’t them or me can take a leap...I’m getting my power back.
-----------------6:00 AM----------
Still haven’t slept. Heard a con ed guy talking to his buddy. One asked the other how he was doing and he emphasized many times, he “had no complaints”...I wonder what that’s like...
-----------------around 6:30 AM--------
My body is starting to feel like my heart...sick and toxic
--------------8:00 AM---------------(around 5 I texted jessica asking if I could nap at her place after she wakes up so at least I can go sell tickets with some sleep in me)
Took the train to Jessica's in the hopes I could find a place to lay my head for a few hours. Got some winks on the subway. Just rolled a cigarette for a 40 something aspiring voice actor. Meeting strangers always makes me feel good about being a wanderer. I realized this is the first night in NY I truly had no place to go. I’m sitting on the sidewalk smoking like a proper bum and while I appreciate the novelty I can’t help but to hear one thought echoing in my head “Never Again”.
When this gets sorted I’m holding on to whatever situation I have for dear life. I refuse to be a burden, I refuse, I refuse, I refuse I refuse.
--------------around 8:30---------
I’m trying to look like a writer not a hobo...but in the grand scheme I don’t suppose they are so different...
--------------------a little while after that------------
I would probably cry if I weren't so tired.
-----------9:43 AM---------
I think some guy thought I was another homeless youth and gave me a drag or 2 off his amazing joint...I mean I am another homeless youth but thats not the point...the point is I feel goooood.
Honestly I think he was just a kind soul who saw I needed a breather....or he needed a light and I looked down for that...either way I’m feeling markedly better about everything right now...also I think this improves my hand writing...
-------------------a little after 10---------
another guy stopped to share a J with me...that has never happened to me before...I’m going to have to come to this spot more often.
--------------------9:27PM----------
I made it through the night and Jessica let me sleep the day away in her bed.
I think my only option is to swallow my dignity and go back to amanda’s. Good news is I might only be a day away from having my own place again. It sounds like as soon as I talk to the landlord and work out the finer points of the lease I am home free...finally.
Don’t get too excited Kyle...Miles to go.
-------------------------------
I have to PS all this by reiterating that I am not a vagrant. I had a place, I lost that place and now I'm struggling to get back what I had. I have 2 jobs and money saved up, I'm not some slacker, I'm not some lazy ass who doesn't take control of his life...life is just a bitch sometimes.
And I am ending this night with a full stomach, drinking wine with two people who have fought tooth and nail for my happiness. I don't' want anyone to worry...I just couldn't take it anymore and guess I just needed to spend a night beholden to no one.
Thank you again Jessica and Lauren....the Pallete girls always got my back and I'll never for get it :)
I love you all
KH-
A couple days ago my friend Reagan’s roommate (lets just call him Hoggel because well...he is an angry little troll) got a wild hair up his ass and decided he wanted to squeeze me for money. I had been sleeping on this couch un-protested for a month and the only reason I wasn’t looking for other places to live is because Hoggel said he was going to move. Now Hoggel has moved his move day again and again to the point of it being an indefinite situation...some how, for some reason this justifies him throwing me out on the street with no warning. I would have had no problem paying Hoggel and Reagan for my time on the couch but Hoggel brought it to Reagan before he brought it to me and Reagan, the kind soul that he is, refused that thought out right and began his defense of me.
I was caught un aware and off guard by all of this but I could hear them arguing in the living room while I was in Reagan’s room...brought there by Amanda so we could both avoid the fight because this altercation was about much more than me. I could hear hoggle flippantly decided my fate. When Reagan had said his peace I walked out and Hoggle, with all the authority a troll can muster, says “hey listen man you gotta get out.” I was in the kitchen...I set my fork down...”That’s not going to happen” I say. “Excuse me?” He says...I sit down in front of him and begin explaining the situation. I begin explaining to him that what he is doing is wrong and childish.
What happened after that I don’t know because I went red I do know that in an instant I decided to pack my shit. He had already called the police the second I wanted to talk about leaving instead of just leaving. I brought my things down stairs and smoked a cigarette while Amanda tried to talk me down from boarding the next flight to Illinois. The cops came told Hoggel he had no legal grounds to kick me out and went along there way to do some real police work.
I didn’t care...I couldn’t stay in that apartment. I went to Amanda’s had a relatively normal day and than had a lovely evening at a diner. I was jonesing for a diner for some reason and it was all I could have hoped for. It did what diners do, it reminded me of every beautiful ragamuffin I have ever met, it’s food was just as amazingly mediocre but in the perfectly charming way. That night I was to stay at Amanda’s again but once again my presence was a point of contention.
Something broke in me. I should point out here that the reason I lost the first apartment was a series of unfortunate events but it was through no fault of my own. So here I am, feeling like a leper, a scum bag, a leach. But this isn’t “Kyle still isn’t on his feet when is he going to get it together?” No, I had it together, I had a place and I was on a lease and that all went away. I felt as if every strip of dignity had finally been taken from me. I felt like I couldn’t put my head down anymore. I didn’t have anymore “thank you ma’am and thank you sir” for people who collect favors and enjoy making themselves better than others in me. I couldn’t feel helpless and take charity one more night. I refused to stay one more night in a place where I wasn’t 100% welcome. Reagan and Amanda would house me till judgment if they had to and I would do the same for them but this wasn’t about them.
I grabbed my bag and went right back to that diner. I was going to sit in that diner all night...what I was going to do after that night I wasn’t sure...maybe stay with a different friend I hadn’t decided but I knew I was done feeling this way...I needed to reclaim my dignity by doing something undignified and have my first truly homeless night in New York City.
I scribbled in my note book as the night went on, as I drank my coffee and read “On The Road” by Jack Kerouac (the irony wasn’t lost on me). The remaineder of this blog is what I wrote last night and today.
-------------------------------------around 1:00AM riding the Q to atalntic ave----
When I die I want people to say I had integrity. I want to be a man known for living life as completely as I could with as much integrity as I could muster. I want to be known for handling being road weary with grace.
But what I want today is my dignity back.
-------------------------------2:37 at the Diner------
It’s only 2:37 how will I make this night?
---------------4:00AM------
Piano man just came on the radio. It’s 4 AM, I’m in a 24hr Brooklyn Diner reading On The Road listening to Piano man and drinking diner coffee tasting the way only diner coffee can taste. I’m tired, road weary, fed up and waiting for morning...
---------------Around 5:00 AM------------
I’ve started to nod off here and there. Thankfully I’ve been so into my book the diner staff haven’t noticed. I dreamt of being held by a beautiful blonde woman. She holds my head to her chest, stroking my hair, kissing me and telling me everything will be okay. An angel come to help me heal even if just for a little while.
I hate myself a little for having this dream, for needing...
My thoughts of healing always go to women. I hate that I let women define me. I don’t think that's so much of a problem these days though. But I do find myself believing that I need a woman. I’m almost certain this has something to do with my mother or the fact that I was raised by women. Or maybe it’s just because the female archetype has always been the symbol of healing and tenderness. “god and the goddess” “Mother” earth ect.
I do love women though. There is something achieved in my friendships with women that I haven’t tapped into with men yet and I don’t quite know what it is.
------------------------around 5:30 AM---------
Why am I here in this diner?
I can no longer let small power crazed control freaks strip me of my dignity. If I am not 100% wanted some place I refuse to stay there anymore. I have no more “keep your head down” in me. I will no longer let these people hold some kind of assumed power over me. I can’t do it anymore...I wont.
The real reason is the rug was pulled from under me and now I’m struggling once again to forge a tangible place in the world and have been driven to my breaking point. I NEED to start winning my dignity back.
Fuck em’ I know who loves me and I am so thankful for them...anyone that isn’t them or me can take a leap...I’m getting my power back.
-----------------6:00 AM----------
Still haven’t slept. Heard a con ed guy talking to his buddy. One asked the other how he was doing and he emphasized many times, he “had no complaints”...I wonder what that’s like...
-----------------around 6:30 AM--------
My body is starting to feel like my heart...sick and toxic
--------------8:00 AM---------------(around 5 I texted jessica asking if I could nap at her place after she wakes up so at least I can go sell tickets with some sleep in me)
Took the train to Jessica's in the hopes I could find a place to lay my head for a few hours. Got some winks on the subway. Just rolled a cigarette for a 40 something aspiring voice actor. Meeting strangers always makes me feel good about being a wanderer. I realized this is the first night in NY I truly had no place to go. I’m sitting on the sidewalk smoking like a proper bum and while I appreciate the novelty I can’t help but to hear one thought echoing in my head “Never Again”.
When this gets sorted I’m holding on to whatever situation I have for dear life. I refuse to be a burden, I refuse, I refuse, I refuse I refuse.
--------------around 8:30---------
I’m trying to look like a writer not a hobo...but in the grand scheme I don’t suppose they are so different...
--------------------a little while after that------------
I would probably cry if I weren't so tired.
-----------9:43 AM---------
I think some guy thought I was another homeless youth and gave me a drag or 2 off his amazing joint...I mean I am another homeless youth but thats not the point...the point is I feel goooood.
Honestly I think he was just a kind soul who saw I needed a breather....or he needed a light and I looked down for that...either way I’m feeling markedly better about everything right now...also I think this improves my hand writing...
-------------------a little after 10---------
another guy stopped to share a J with me...that has never happened to me before...I’m going to have to come to this spot more often.
--------------------9:27PM----------
I made it through the night and Jessica let me sleep the day away in her bed.
I think my only option is to swallow my dignity and go back to amanda’s. Good news is I might only be a day away from having my own place again. It sounds like as soon as I talk to the landlord and work out the finer points of the lease I am home free...finally.
Don’t get too excited Kyle...Miles to go.
-------------------------------
I have to PS all this by reiterating that I am not a vagrant. I had a place, I lost that place and now I'm struggling to get back what I had. I have 2 jobs and money saved up, I'm not some slacker, I'm not some lazy ass who doesn't take control of his life...life is just a bitch sometimes.
And I am ending this night with a full stomach, drinking wine with two people who have fought tooth and nail for my happiness. I don't' want anyone to worry...I just couldn't take it anymore and guess I just needed to spend a night beholden to no one.
Thank you again Jessica and Lauren....the Pallete girls always got my back and I'll never for get it :)
I love you all
KH-
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