Page 7 of Home With You

"They hang out by your building?"

"Not the apartment but they're by the office. I've been walking to work and there's homeless along my entire route. I don't mind them being there. It's just not something I'm used to seeing. Kinda bothers me, you know?"

"Why? You think they'll pull a knife on you?"

"No. It just bothers me that they're living that way. I don't know how people live on the street like that."

"Hopefully that won't be me someday. My parents keep talking about kicking me out."

"They never would. You know that. But it would be good if you got your own place. That house isn't exactly where you want to bring girls."

Greg's mom collects knick-knacks and puts them all over the house. Dog statues. Ceramic teddy bears. Unicorn figurines. There's nothing wrong with the house itself. It's just not where you want to take a girl.

"I've been looking around at apartments," he says. "But I'd rather get a new car."

"You're never moving out of there, are you?"

He laughs. "I just need to a find a girl who has the same taste in decorating as my mom. Or just never take her over here."

"Hey, I gotta go. I have to read through the employee manual and take a quiz."

"They're quizzing you on the manual?"

"It's stupid, but whatever. I just have to do it."

"Yeah, okay. Talk to you later."

I set my phone down and go over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and look out at the city. It's just after six and traffic is backed up with people trying to go home. Living downtown may be noisy but it's worth it to avoid a long commute. My office is just a few blocks away and I like the walk. It gives me time to clear my head before starting my day, and after work, it gives me time to wind down.

I'm still in my suit and tie so I go up the few steps that lead to my bedroom and change into jeans and a t-shirt. It's strange living alone. I went from living in my mom's place to living in the college dorms and then an apartment during law school, which I shared with a roommate. Now it's just me, and although I thought I'd love having a place to myself, it's kind of lonely.

Feeling the need to go out, I grab my laptop and keys and go down to the street. I've been here a week but haven't explored much outside the route to my office. I turn down a side street and head down the street that's parallel to the one I live on. I spot a food truck selling tacos. I'm starving so I go up to the window and order three tacos with a side of chips. After I get my food, I walk over to the park that's just behind the food truck.

"Spare some change?" a man asks. He's old, maybe around 70, with wiry gray hair and a long beard. His striped button-up shirt is wrinkled and stained and his pants are ripped at the knee. I notice a shopping cart just behind him full of blankets and plastic bags. Another homeless guy. And he wants money. I know people say not to give to beggars, but I feel like I can't turn him down.

Digging in my pocket, I find the change I got back from my dinner. It's three dollars and forty-two cents. I give him all of it.

"Thank you, kind sir." He smiles and I see his front teeth are missing.

"You're welcome." I sit down at a picnic table and watch him leave with his shopping cart. Where does he go at night? Does he sleep in the park? A shelter? I've seen some guys sleeping on the street. I wonder if they sleep in the same spot every night or move around.

When I'm done eating, I try to figure out where to go next. I need to work on this HR stuff but I really don't want to go to back my apartment. I'm sure I'll get used to being alone there but until I am, I'd rather be out, surrounded by other people, even if they're total strangers.

Leaving the park, I continue along the street, noticing the small shops that are now closed. Most of the buildings around here are several stories high with retail on the street level and housing or businesses above. The retail shops close at five when the workers go home but I glance in the windows just to check them out. I pass a coffee shop and notice it's open.

I go inside and a woman walks up to me and smiles. "Welcome."

"Thanks." I smile back then focus on the menu board behind her.

"Pumpkin lattes started today," she says, still smiling. "Or if you're more of a serious coffee guy, our French roast is fantastic. We roast our beans fresh every day."

This woman is very enthusiastic about coffee. But I like her enthusiasm. I like people who are passionate about what they do.

"Are you the owner?" I ask.

She laughs. "No. Not even close. I'm the manager but I'm only here one day a week. The rest of the week I'm at our other location. I love being downtown but the other place is closer to my house. I can run home if my kids need me. They're six and four. I have a sitter but she doesn't always show up. I need to find a new one."

I nod, not sure why she's telling me all this but I don't mind. It's nice to be around friendly people again.

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