Tango and Cash

"If I were a cop, this is how I'd point my gun."

The bearded man in the parking lot behind the supermarket pulls a finger pistol from the waistband of his surprisingly clean jeans and points it at me as I jog past, splaying his legs in an awkward lunge-squat and squinting his left eye. His partner - an equally-bearded but dirtier version of Officer Shooter wearing at least three hoodies - shakes his head disapprovingly.

"That's not how it goes. You gotta cock it first."

"Like this?" the guy says as I glide out of his crosshairs, tilting his head to the left.

I'm not sure he understands why I start laughing.

Islands and Corners

It occurs to me as I idle at the corner of Rosecrans and Midway that there is a homeless person on every concrete island and a person one step from the streets on every corner. The only difference is the sign they hold.

The island-dwellers mark their status on cardboard by hand. The words are different; the requests the same.

“Whatever you can give helps. Thank you and God bless.”

“US MILITARY VETERAN. I SERVED AND JUS NEED SOME HELP. ANYTHING HELPS. ANYTHING AT ALL. SEMPER FI.”

“I’ll be honest. I want money for beer. Can you help me?”

“Lost everything to my husband’s cancer and the economy CRASH. Three kids need food.”

Unlike Ted Williams, the Golden Voice of Rehab and poster child of what the Internet’s 24-minute news cycle can do to a person, none of these signs promise any play for pay. The crass part of me fully expects to see more of that in the near future as I avoid eye contact with a woman I’m sure is a meth addict. Who couldn’t use job offers from the Cleveland Cavaliers and Kraft in this economy.

Mostly, the homeless hold their signs at chest level, walking slowly down the brick surface over and over while lines of cars and SUVs wait for the light to change, trying not to make eye contact while they look for any signs of compassion. Some don’t even walk. They sit, as if worn from the weight of carrying their personal chimera all day when they should be sleeping to prepare for the night to come.

 The sign-holders on the corner opt for entertainment, mostly because their handouts depend on it. They twirl their neon arrows and dance, pointing to a strip club, a computer repair shop, a Thai restaurant and another strip club, this one with a buffet.