the marine in my doorway. ok, the entryway. i came back from lunch and there was a marine in the entryway to my house, which is a building with 6 apts. but, not like the marines, like a bum who's a vet. he was drunk and sitting cross-legged next to his bags and booze. i talked to him for a bit.
he said he was headed to the shelter on albany street. i decided not to intervene. i went upstairs, and hours later a cop car came by and a van from a street outreach program rolled up and led him, stumbling, inside. i thought about all the people that help people, whose jobs it is to help people. you can apply this description to just about anyone, but it shines through. benevolent workers.
the cambridge cops have to deal with central sq drunks. today i gave the spare change guy a dollar in front of au bon pain in harvard. i saw the guy that used to sell the spare change magazine in downtown crossing on broadway in cambridge last week. i've heard a story of seeing a harvard sq bum in nyc.
i wouldn't mind having a job which required me to take the redline somewhere. i would read the metro and the globe or the herald every day.
spank rock, stanton warriors, junkie xl, boom bip, football basketball and music tonight. lighting festivities
1 comment:
this summer when i would switch buses at alewife i always grabbed the metro or boston now and crushed it on the bus out to fresh pond
PS, take the word-validator thing out of your comment poster
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