One of the routes I take to work is on a huge street that has a couple of overpasses across major freeways. It's generally an entertaining street with interesting (read: odd) things going on. Along a particularly empty stretch there was a lonely bench at a bus stop. These are scattered around the city randomly, the only funny thing about it originally was that it was in a particularly useless spot.

Then one day I noticed that a homeless guy was sleeping on said bench. Again, not an unusual thing to see necessarily. It got a little more interesting when he was there the next day and the day after that. Usually someone notices and comes and makes them move along or helps them to a shelter.

Apparently, no one bothered this guy so he started collecting some of his paraphanelia around him - bags, boxes, blankets. Every couple of nights there was something new added to the bench environs. One night he had a pretty nice sleeping bag. It rained that night, and I idly wondered the next morning if his sleeping bag got wet.

No - he had made a tent out of some plastic, covering the entire bench. I thought surely someone would notice this and hussle him out. But no - the plastic remained, day after day. He wasn't always laying there, but his stuff was permanently attached.

Still not much of a big deal in this city, I'm afraid. He found a spot and was making it home. I was secretly a little bit proud of him for so thoroughly squatting on a forgotten piece of public land - right there on a major street where busses theoretically stop day and night.

I'm not telling this story to tug at your heartstrings, though. I'm telling it because tonight as I passed the usual spot I litterally howled with glee. (Ask Sarah, this doesn't happen often, and when it does - it tends to frighten people around me.) Here's the reason:

the guy's stuff was all still there, but the park bench was entirely gone. It had been replaced by a comfy brown couch, where the guy was laying down - feet propped up on one arm like he was watching tv in his livingroom. I don't care what else his problems are, this is a guy with hutzpa.

I still get the giggles thinking of it. Maybe next week he will have built himself a solid roof and a door. If so, I think I will donate a mailbox to him.


Books: I have conquered the chapter! It put up a good fight, but I came off victorious. Muahahahaha. Actually, it helps when the characters "show up to work" then you just have to watch what they do in your head and write it all down.