A Date With Lilly

• Miracle Cure
• Miraculous Find
• The Psychiatric Evaluation

Starting In A Hole
Yesterday, I left the library and walked along my usual route, after posting what I thought was a pretty tedious account of my fight with Leslie...It certainly didn't read like a "thriller" to myself...
I had about 43 cents in my pocket, along with a few "worthless" coins, like an Australian one dollar coin.
I did want to get to the Lilly spot a bit early.
Another Man
There is another young black man, who now plays there in the afternoons; with Lillys blessing (until 8 o' clock; when he is to defer to me because "He was here first").
He is a decent singer and has a repertoire which fits in with the 20 somethings, of which group he is a member -songs, like "Love Is What I've Got," by some group which might be Sublime (or might as well be Sublime...)
What hinders him is the fact that he lets his guitar go quite noticeably out of tune.
He surprised me Wednesday afternoon, by doing "Mississippi Half Step Uptown Toodaloo," by The Grateful Dead...and knowing all of the verses.
People were throwing him a few bills, and one told him that he sounded good; but if he invested in a guitar tuner; he would gain another "intangible" element.
I am not a rival of his and I support his efforts.
He asked me then: "Is it OK if I play a little longer?"
It was only about 5:45, and I quickly said "Sure!" and went off to Sidneys for my first beer of that day.
Yesterday, He wasn't there when I showed up around the same time.
I now start to "crane my neck" at around the intersection of St. Ann's and Bourbon streets, to see if he is on Lillys step.
Kill That Thing!
I repeated the mistake of starting to play too early and burning myself out by the time that I would normally be just starting -after only making a handful of change.
I wound up trading money off my food card for a couple of beers with someone at Rouses Market.
I was aware that my alarm had already been set for 7:18 a.m., so that I could make my appointment with the psychiatrist at The Rebuild Center.
I planned upon sacrificing busking time again, so that I could go to sleep early at the sign spot, which is a mile closer to Rebuild; and it was warm enough so that I didn't need any of the blankets which are (hopefully still) under the dock.
I went back for a second set and began playing "Light My Fire," by The Doors.
The swollen gland in my throat had been bothering me all night.
During the (extended) harmonica solo, a guy in a red shirt walked past and said "You need to kill that thing!"
He looked like a local; a cantankerous drunken local, but I wasn't sure of his intent.
His tone of voice could have suggested that, in order to do justice to that classic song; I needed to really get on the harmonica and "kill" the solo.
But, reading the other meaning that he was telling me to kill (the way you "kill the lights") the harmonica; my response was to up my volume and try to play the hell out of the solo.
I was putting "100%" into it when, during a note which I had drawn down viciously; I felt something rupture in my throat.
I could feel a thick, acidic liquid clogging my throat which felt like raw egg yolk mixed with vinegar; and the next couple lines that I sang only came out in a hoarse croak.
Eventually, my throat cleared; leaving it scratchy, though I could again sing; and the pain that had been nagging me, off and on for the past 2 months, was almost completely gone.
Today, I can feel it slightly, but that is probably because I didn't do myself any favor by eating the hamburger sub with the mayonnaise last night.
What hamburger?.... 
The Big Brown Bag
I then walked around, trying to catch a bit of the football game on a TV and, at one point, saw a brown shopping bag atop a trash can.
It was stapled shut and had an invoice stapled to it which stated that 2 Philly Steak; 2 Hamburger; and 2 Tuna sandwiches were contained; total $43.80.
I looked left and right, saw nobody; and then actually had to jettison some of the food which I already had in my pack in order to stuff the thing in; and went on my way.
The sandwiches were still warm (despite the fact that two cold cans of Coke and a bottled water were nestled in there with them; that I discovered in time to separate) .
I decided to find some skeezers and bless them with food.
Maybe it was because I had just had a miraculous healing, through the agency of someone who might have been trying to be negative, but whose energy I had turned into a positive manifestation; that I felt generous.
I was full after eating just one hamburger out of it, and didn't expect it to keep long.
I found first one guy; sitting with his sign.
I was almost embarrassed for him, due to the unoriginality of his sign.
He chowed down a Philly Steak, and was so genuinly appreciative that I realized that that is precisely the "payoff" which peop;le get
Then, a group of three.
As I was digging the sandwiches out; and thinking "This is the first time I've ever given anything to these bums!" I discovered a 20 dollar bill on the bottom of the bag.
If I had just eaten my fill and then thrown the rest out......
It is a mystery why The Quartermaster would bag up an order and include a fresh 20 along with the food and then staple it shut; and then leave it atop a trash can....