HELP BOULDER’S OWN HOMELESS PEOPLE, NOT TRANSIENTS!
By Max R. Weller
I saw these for the first time over the weekend, first on a female runner, then on a female cyclist:
Looks very uncomfortable to me.
Granted, both of the ladies sporting this latest fad in hydration gear were of a lean, athletic build; i.e., relatively flat-chested. Even so, this looks like the solution to a problem which doesn’t exist, considering the alternatives which have been around much longer.
BTW, Shouting Joe (who is now Quiet Joe since getting out of Boulder County Jail not long ago) now wears a camelback-style hydration pack, which is no doubt filled with cheap vodka.
Yesterday, Drunk Doris wanted to “fly a sign” on the corner of N. Broadway & U.S. 36. Since I’d already finished doing so for the day, and I had something in mind for her anyway, I told her that was cool. She went out there, alternating between sitting on her butt on an inverted bucket at the end of the median and marching toward the oncoming traffic while verbally harassing motorists (neither tactic gains anyone’s favor). I sat over in my spot on the wall in front of the Mexican restaurant, holding up my own sign in LARGE PRINT that drivers could see before they got to Doris:
Many passersby took notice, and so did a young man who lives in an apartment over at the Boulder Bins property. He walked all the way across Broadway and down to my location with a big smile on his face, just to hand me a $5 bill. A friend of mine also stopped by and gave me another $5 along with a couple of bottles of water, but he made no comment about my Pickled Idjit Alert. Doris herself lost her glasses recently and couldn’t see what I was holding up, and apparently none of the drivers told her. She gave up panhandling after sticking it out in the heat for over an hour, with just a granola bar and a couple of cans of soda to show for it. As she passed me on the sidewalk she said, “I’m going down to Boulder Creek — it’s too hot up here!” More than likely, she found all of the rotgut likker she could handle down there, courtesy of her fellow inebriates.
When I arrived at Boulder Shelter for the Homeless this morning about 5:15AM, to await its opening at 6, there was yet another able-bodied young transient I’d never seen before sitting near the door, sans shoes and socks, busily engaged in picking his feet. Reminded me of the other bums I see inside the shelter who take dirty towels from the laundry bin in the men’s restroom to wipe their hands and faces. CAVEAT: Many of the homeless people who are employed work in the food services industry:
Let’s hope these three are not shelter bums.
Welcome to my new obsessed fan on Twitter, @MikeSHall9. LOL! Typical self-absorbed Boulderite, who needs to take a number and get in line behind the other cyberstalkers.
Tonight at my campsite: Progresso Creamy Mushroom soup, which has been on sale at King Soopers for only $1: