Day 59: “Homeless Hottie”

I needed inspiration so I went to cafe tryst in DC. I love this coffee shop and especially love when the servers give me animal crackers with my coffee. I walked in and the palce was packed. I grabbed a place to sit by an outlet on a couch because my laptop was about to die (go figure). I noticed that where I was sitting didn’t have an outlet. I started to gathered my things and was going to move to another spot, but someone beat me to it. I just sat there pist off and started scanning the cafe for another spot. The server for my section came over to me and while he was taking my order, I described my dilemma to him. He looked at me with the all to familiar look of “Do I really look like I care where the fuck you sit, just order something off the menu and leave a 20% tip”. Being a server requires a lot of patience, everyone should try it at least once to gain a better appreciation for the restaurant industry. It’s not easy.

I got a coffee, cashed out with the server and went to a new spot I scoped out directly in the sun light because I saw an outlet under the table. I sat there sweating from the direct sunlight, writing and drinking my hot coffee. It’s a perfect example of how stubborn I can be at times. I started to get  nervous because I get weird in large social gatherings, even if I know all the people. I was sick of sweating so I finished one of my entries and left. As I was walking back to my car in Adams Morgan, I realized how much I love city life.

When I was living in San Francisco, I would catch the bus to the Haight Ashbury frequently. It’s a cool hippie town that always smells like weed. I was walking around and looking in and out of the shops when I saw a young group of break dancers gathered around listening to beats and practicing their moves. Of course one of the guys caught my attention….I’m a slut. I walked over to him and intorduced myself and wanted to see if he would like to hang out later. I said we could go back to my place or his.  I soon found out that he was homeless and danced for money. There were a lot of young attractive homeless people in SF when I lived there. 

He was young, good looking, and talented. I assumed that being young and homeless was a trend in the city, and I embraced it. I ran into a lot of free spirited people in SF. I felt I should do something nice for him and asked him if he would like to come back to my place to eat and drink beer.

He said he could but only for the night. I understood because he was like a modern day hippie-gypsy-homeless guy. I really felt connected and free with him that day. Free from the awkward talk about career choices, money, family, etc. He had nothing to offer besides a different perspective on how he wanted to live his life. He was happy, and he had all of his teeth (I always judge a guy by his smile). He didn’t even blink when I told him I was a stripper or ask me to bust a move, and lay it down SF strippa style. 

When we got to my place, and after I had a few drinks in me…I asked him if he would be interested in taking a bath with me. Like I said before, I don’t discriminate and he was good looking. I told him we could wash each other, light a bunch of candles, and smoke some weed. I admired him (to a point) and wanted to give him something simple and sensual, and I did. 

He thanked me the next morning and told me that he didn’t know how long he would be in SF because he and his friends were thinking about hitchhiking to Portland, OR to hang out for a month or so just  for fun. We said our goodbyes that morning and I never saw him again. I even went back to the spot we met a week later to see if he was there, he wasn’t.

Here’s 307 days, Veronica Graham- Life is a series of random moments-

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