Monday, December 21, 2015

All The Tree Rats Out There

6 Dollar Saturday
18 Dollar Sunday
Tree Rat

Saturday night, I played with my new spotlight above me. It is 60 lumens and lit the spot up well.
I only made 6 bucks, though it had seemed like more, as the people tipping me had good things to say. Usually, when someone tells you that you sound "great," there is at least a 5 dollar bill going in your jar, but it wasn't the case with the 6 people that tipped me.
I went by Loiuses' tarot reading table, which was being watched by "Tree Rat," as she ran to the restroom. I used the opportunity to slink by without stopping to wait for her to return.
Tree Rat is from Iowa and is here to skeeze, it appears.
Louise had introduced me to him Friday night.
All he talked about were his skeezing escapades, telling one story about a thing that he had said to a black woman which got her to stop and talk to him, as it was an off the wall comment (skeezers often have them in their repertoire). She had pulled out her wallet to give him money for brain surgery, or whatever his skeeze was. He said that he had seen 100 dollar bills in her purse, but that she had handed him 5 bucks.
"Why couldn't she have given me a hundred?!?" ejaculated Tree Rat, in a tone of voice which dripped with egotism and entitlement. Let's all get together and afford Tree Rat a comfortable existence, shall we? I mean, is that so much to ask? -seemed to be the attitude of Tree Rat.
He made my stomach turn when he revealed that, earlier that evening, he had been approaching people offering to buy a cigarette off of them "even though I didn't have any money..."

He said that he would fish around in his pockets, as if looking for the quarter or whatever "hoping that they would just give it to me..."

I hate those kind of skeezers with a passion.

After hearing that, I said: "Speaking of buying cigarettes, I need to get to Uniques" and made a hasty retreat, but not before giving my opinion to Louise, directed as much towards Tree Rat, that I have found that people who use street names, such as Tree Rat, tend to be untrustworthy, and that such names just add an extra layer of anonymity, helping them to elude the Law, as they wouldn't even have a correct first name to go on, should the skeezer run afoul of the law and decide to leave town.

"I just hate my real name," said Tree Rat.

Maybe that is why he expects society to pay his way; perhaps to compensate him for having had to grow up being called "Herman," or "Nesbit."

The reason that I mention him is that, after he had informed me that Louise was using the restroom and would return shortly, and I had walked on, seeing no reason to wait for her; I ran into her at the end of the next block.

She blew my mind by asking me if it would be OK if Tree Rat crashed at my apartment "for a few days."

She said that he was only 17 years old and had only been in town for 2 weeks and was a long way from home and was sleeping outside; and her heart went out to him in pity. She worried about poor little Tree Rat the beggar, especially on such a cold night as Saturday was.

I couldn't believe that. She didn't mention him paying any rent at all.

I basically told her that I had judged his character to be undesirable after he had talked about offering people money that he didn't have for cigarettes. "When people do that to me I want to smash their heads with a bottle..."

I went on to say that there are times when a smoker is just a quarter short of buying another pack and has just one cigarette left and will welcome the opportunity to trade it for a fresh 20.

After giving it to a skeezer and not getting the quarter, he now has zero cigarettes, and is put in the position of needing to skeeze his own quarter from a public that has become jaded by all the Tree Rats out there. And he wants to smash his bottle over the skeezers head...

I wasn't shedding any tears for whatever his name is; he chose to come here. I'm sure that he would gladly stay at my place for free, and would probably see it as just another installment in the adventures of Tree Rat whom the world supports because he hates his real name.

Funny thing -he would have to show ID at the front desk, and I would be able to find out his real name- not worth letting a total stranger, who is 17 and thus from a generation that I don't understand nor appreciate, and who sees other humans as a means to an end, come into my place. How many red flags is that; I lost count....

Louise said she understood that I didn't like panhandlers, but her face betrayed an underlying sentiment, as if she was ready to add: "but some people have no choice..."

Some people truly find themselves in a bind and "have no choice" but are rebuffed by a public that has become jaded by all of the Tree Rats out there, and just see them as another one of him.
If Tree Rat is in such a dire situation, then, why is trying to keep cigarettes in his mouth?
I stopped short of telling Louise that I had spent 4 years sleeping outside here, and that the temperature had gotten a lot colder than the 45 degrees that was forecast to assault Tree Rat that night.

I "paid my dues" over those 4 years and I just don't think it fair that Tree Rat, after being here 2 weeks should have the doors to a comfortable (and free) apartment rolled open for him.

What would it be like for me to live with a panhandler?

"Mind if I get one of those (cigarettes)?"

"Gee, that smells really good, mind if I get a plate?"

"It's really cold out today, do you have an extra jacket that I can wear?"

etc. etc.

Louise Laying Groundwork?

In a kind of related note, Louise has asked me if I wanted a TV. She has a large screen one in her storage box, next to the refrigerator et. al.

Could she be conniving to stay at my place 10 days out of each of the coming months, and wants there to be a TV there, for her own purposes?
Not, Louise!

New Phone On The Way

Within 5 business days, I should receive a new government phone to replace the one that I lost a few nights ago.

Louise was mortified after I stopped returning her texts, saying that she thought that I was mad at her (something that she would have to remedy before January if she intends to be sitting on my couch watching TV and eating for another 10 days).

Jay the really loud singer has reiterated his offer of 100 bucks per week to crash at my place.
He goes to work 7 days a week from about 5PM until after midnight and "does" about 150 bucks a day with an amp and a microphone and singing the same 9 songs. He wouldn't become a permanent fixture after having had one good money night; as Louise did.
To be fair, she coaxed me to do the same and take a night off to watch movies and drink whiskey and smoke weed, while she munched away next to me.

It used to be 8 songs for him, but he has recently added that Buffalo Springfield song called: "(Stop, Hey) What's That Sound?"

1 comment:

Alex said...

Rule number one for being a skeezer is to avoid other skeezers! Unless you plan to skeeze off of them, but you skeeze off of the public, therefore you really need to avoid other skeezers and not get entangled with them.

If I ever visit, I'll just rent a room from dorise, I want to stay far away from skeezers.