One Day (Part 2)

Jason watched the woman in the neat business attire rush on down the street and his countenance fell.  It seemed like no matter what he did, he made people uncomfortable.  Go up and talk to them, they rush a little faster.  Don't say anything, they ignore you completely.  Happen to make eye contact with one, she fumbles about and hurries away down the street.

With a sigh, he pulled out from his pocket the plastic baggie that served as his wallet.  Forty-two dollars and seventy-five cents.  He stuffed it back in his pocket.  He could get food to last him a week with that money, but food wasn't his concern.  The homeless shelter was always happy to offer him a warm meal in the evenings.  What they had a shortage of was beds.

He turned around his sign and examined it.  Maybe cardboard was too cliche.  Maybe he should use some of his money to invest in a nice piece of poster-board.  He had thought the cardboard would demonstrate the need he felt, but then again, how many times had he paid any mind to a man with a cardboard sign before he had lost his job and his apartment and everything else?

Maybe the words needed work.  "Homeless shelter full.  Please help."  He shook his head.  They were direct and succinct and explained his exact problem.  He wasn't even directly asking for money.  He just wanted help:  advice on another place to stay, a blanket or pillow, even just a little bit of encouragement.  Money is always nice, though.  If he could just get enough money, he could make his own way.  He would have a hot shower and good night's sleep before his next job interview and maybe he wouldn't just get turned away before he even made it in the front door.

Jason turned his sign back around and looked up at the people hurrying to get home.  Home.  How he used to take that for granted.  Even when he was barely scrapping by, he never thought he would actually be unable to afford a place to stay.  Now that Motel 8 a few blocks down the street just stood there, taunting him.  He could go sit somewhere else, but this seemed to be a spot that got the most foot traffic, even if his earnings didn't seem reflective of that at all.

Forty-two dollars and seventy-five cents.  The sign out front said nightly rates were $59.99 for a weeknight stay.  With taxes and fees, round that up to $70 for the night, and he still needed another twenty-seven dollars and twenty-five cents.  His $42.75 had been earned since Sunday, so he probably wouldn't have another $27.25 until Monday.  He could tough it out until then, but then what?  One night's stay at a hotel for every 6 days on the street?  Was that what the rest of his life was going to be?

He glanced up at the sky.  It was actually a rather nice day right now:  fairly cool for a summer evening.  But he saw the clouds starting to gather.  It was likely going to rain tonight.  He never hated the rain nearly so much when he was employed.

Maybe he could use his money to buy an umbrella.  That would at least help keep him dry for the night.  But his eyes were drawn back to the hotel.  A soft, comforting bed; employees who would be forced to smile at him instead of frowning and rushing away; a warm shower.  A warm shower would really hit the spot, and not the hot sweaty drenching he got on Tuesday when it was almost 100 degrees outside.

He couldn't possibly get enough to pay for tonight though, and even then, his current business model was unsustainable.  He needed another plan.

$42.75.  Surely that was enough to buy something of use, something that could help him get the rest of the money he needed.  And then it dawned on him.  The thought made him extremely uneasy, but he wasn't sure what choice he really had at this point.  Not if he wanted to get off the streets.  He would rob a convenience store.  People did it all the time, he was quite sure, and only the stupid ones got caught.  He would be smart about it - buy a mask and something that can threaten as a weapon without really hurting anyone.  If there's too much resistance, then run, try somewhere else.  How would anyone be able to prove its him?  He's only going to do this one time, this one day.  Get enough money for a few nights at the hotel, go interview at a few places, and get a job.  If he were feeling gutsy, he could even interview at whatever place he ends up robbing, but that's the kind of stupid behavior that ends up getting people caught.  He wouldn't do that.

Jason set down his sign and stood up with a new resolve.  His pulse had quickened and he felt very nervous, but this seemed like the best plan he had in a while.  It was certainly worth a try.  If he felt too uneasy to carry it through when the money came, what would he be out?  $42.75.  Probably not even that.  He would keep the receipt for the mask and the knife and return them.  Receipts, he should say.  He would be sure not to buy them in the same place, just in case someone got suspicious.  Jason smile as he hurried to the bus stop. A $2 round trip fare still left him with $40.75.  There was a thrift store near the shopping center were he could probably find an old ski mask or something else to cover his face for about $3, and that still left him with $37.75 for a knife or something else that looked threatening.  He was nervous, but if he could beat the nerves and act menacing, he could walk out of this with several nights in a hotel and a new job!