Middlespace Kingdom


There’s a dude I’ve recently noticed in the area. Sometimes sleeping sitting upright in Starbucks, sometimes hanging outside Panera Bread. But never bothering anybody. Not a peep. Not a second glance. It appears as if he has no place to stay and his stuff is meticulously sectioned into a shopping cart. He smartly stays a good one block buffer from anything residential. He is safely existing under our safe haven umbrella. He knows. He can’t even raise a voice or talk back to anyone or he’d be sent. He has to be safe. He has to fit in and be unproblematic. We’ve always had the unhoused in our midst. Always. But very few get to stay for too long. Goddamn, do I feel for the man, these people. This very well could be any of us. I have so much empathy but…what on earth can I do, slip them twenties? The bad people say, run them out of town. The good people say fund the support services. Nobody says buy them a sandwich or a cup of coffee. But what could I do? I’m just trying to survive too. So, I always make eye contact and I say hello with this gentleman. No disrespect. He knows very well I can’t do anything for him but maybe he appreciates the earnest hello. He has seen it all. He sees it all.