I love homeless people. Street people, I guess is what they are called because -- except for short periods of time -- most of them aren't technically homeless. I just can't say "street" without thinking of that lady from So You Think You Can Dance that says "Those moves are street" thirty times an episode. That lady is all manners of crazy.
And so are street people! Look at that segue. That was awesome. (I'm now singing Final Countdown)
I love street people. They have lived a thousand horrible but interesting lives. A lot of them are slimy and smelly, but I'm a fan of quite a few of them. Once you get to know them over the years, they're like family. Family you wouldn't bring home for dinner, but family none-the-less. I wouldn't bring my family home for dinner either.
Today, a woman came in and looked at donations. As she was leaving, she said "I'm taking your pants." I said "J--, you can't take my pants. I'm wearing them!" She laughed. It might have been a pity laugh though, so I'm not sure it counts.
Street people think I'm funny. Or, at least, I tell myself they do. I'm not sure if that validates me or just makes me kind of pathetic.