May 19, 2008
I wish this hotel room had complimentary robes. Too much to ask, I know. There isn't even art on the wall. Last time Rich and I stayed here at the Gateway Inn we made our own art from tourist brochures and the phone book. This is Revelstoke, BC.
After working a ten hour day Sunday on 4 hours sleep for fuel, I got out of town at about two this afternoon. Endorfins. The first Forest Tate show on Saturday was great. Played to mostly Evan's friends. You could hear a pin drop (a good thing). People said nice things about the songs. Didn't stay for the other bands. The night was warm and not in that room.....
Sunday morning on my way home as the sun was coming up, I talked and walked with a homeless guy (Jason) from about 7th street until 10th along 17th ave. He wasn't high. Not for a few days. He said he was beat up a couple times that night and had a round shiner as proof. We talked and a thought that I've had for quit some time proved true perhaps. The only difference between me and many people without homes is that I have a safety net. People who care. My parents. My friends. Former Lovers...How are the choices I've made any different than the choices Jason has made. He told me no one loves him. Wow.
At 9th Street, I realized I didn't know this guys name, so I introduced myself and shook his hand. We were walking to Macs...I told him I'd buy him a juice. When I went to pay for the drinks I noticed my hand was dripping blood (Jason's blood, from the handshake?). Then I saw a cut on my finger. Where did the cut come from? Did I catch it on a fence...or on the purse strap of my friend I just said goodbye too?
My first thought was oh jeez, his blood is on this cut on my hand. Terrified. Blood doesn't flow inward it flows out I tell myself. He asks to stay at my house, I say no, it's too far. He's a good guy, I can tell. Of course the blood was my own, not his.