Day Two

The Ritter Center. Part of the Lifeline Triangle: The Marin Bus system, , The Ritter Center and St. Vincent de Paul.

Oh, and yes, that is my car…

No, one the the real issues, as in war apparently, is the condition of your feet on legs. Right now I hve my shoes off under the table with them pressed onto the cold stone. I m literally “cooling my jets”.

I also, after today, splurged with my limited Starbucks card (which needs to last) and got a Venti mocha frappacino light (made with stevia) and I want another one just like a coke addict wants another line (I do not speak from experience).

I hit The Ritter Center and waited (you do a lot of that) for the nurse to give me a new (second TB shot) as I missed the results of the other one due to unforseen events. After she gave me the second one, she realized they would be closed the day hey need to evaluate it. So, tomorow I show up for a third TB test.

If I did not have TB before, I will by the time they are done with me.

Then she looked at my “jets”. Some of it is just size. I see these little guys motoring around with 60 pound packs like nothing, smoking (everyone smokes but me). I suppose if I was not 55 pounds over my best weight I would not feel it so in my knees and feet quite so much.

Still, she wants me to see the podiatrist.

OOOPS! I don’t have CMSP (County Health Care). She gives me some cream and a baggy of foot powder that looks like, well…er coke (not that I have ever seen it).

These folks are really great. I mention that oneprbpem is my feet are so fa away from the rest of me that I have to take the 17 bus. She ofers longer swabs. “Got any with four foot long sticks?” I ask.

From there, it is hoofing it to St. Vincent de paul to get my name on the list to talk about my one benefit (you get one every 60 days…hey they serve hundreds!) I need an ID card for Califrnia to pretty much do anything.

She takes my basic info anf tells me to come back at noon.

Downstairs the kitchen/dining area is packed. I see Bill (of course). Bill is a big gregarious man and no matter where I go….Bill is there. We joke he is stalking me.

We have lunch. It is good. I notice my diet is changing…..much more salad and fruit…less or no pasta. I think this is because I have to have fuel and move a lot. Plus, no sweets but the fruit. I mention that a friend has agreed to spend the money to send my equipment from carmel. We talk about where you go. The news is  different…ominous. “If they cath you they will tiket you…$450”

“How do they expect homeless people to pay that?”

“Endless work detail.”

The Dark Side of humanity looms.  The deeper and darker hole an why people move from county to county n start over. They have to to just survive.

No I doubt I will happen to me. But it COULD.  Bill tells me he slept behind a dumpster for a year. “It wasn;t so bad” he says. I guess they didn’t anf send him into the Counties version of Dante’s social inferno.

I get up, bid the two oher men good day and tell Bill I expect to see him lurking at the DMV later (its way far away).

At noon I meet with Carole upstairs. She asks me questions and I wisecrack in a kind/Bill Murray-esque way.  She agrees to get me the letter and check for the DMV and says as I leave “you really have no business being n the street.” I also meet Bob K., resident hippie servant because I have heard he has socks. They are tiny.

As he tells me his theory about 911 and it being the only time three steel structure buildings have come down, my eyes glaze over and I excuse myself.

On the way back to the bus terminal I panic suddenly. I got an Arkansas ID that might have cancelled out my CA ID! CRAP! I hope hog manure has somehow spilled into one of the mainframes (it could happen) or that Arkansas is still on “dial-up” to California.

Its 1.5 mles from the bus drop to the DMV (same back on the other side later). Then there is the rtpical DMV line…25 people minimum in front of me to just get screened!

I have committed.

The good news? It works..they take another picture (yes, Nick Nolte-like, only utterly sober) , Done.

Bad news? “It should arrive in two to three weeks”.

It’s not like I need it or anything.

Then I came here and now I will go “home” on the bus after a short 3 block walk, followed by another very long 3-4.

You do a LOT of walking. I wish I had my bike.

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