by Amanda Davis

Created on: January 26, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

I walked from a friend's house 4 lights from crosstown to the old waffle house, then sat awhile. Seeking consolation from my oldest friends, a warm cup of coffee and the sounds of the few other patrons around me. When I arrived I was greeted by a smile and a friend I once worked with at a deli. She's very unhappy working there yet, I was glad it was her bringing my comfort beverage to me. Something I was so familiar with and spent many nights looking into wondering how I was going to clean this life mess or that.

While sipping my first cup she and I briefly talked about what was going on with me. I just wanted to crawl into the sugar canister and cry. I suppose it was a "woe is me" moment.
The second cup came, along with laughing at and with the other 2 people working there. Even swapping some dramatic stories about waiting tables. Sometimes I feel I can really relate to those girls since I worked at Betty's steak or breakfast to get a roof over my head so long ago.
Occasionally I would think, "I can stay here....oh, I could stay there...I can call my mom." I even contemplated getting on a bus and going off to Nashville or somewhere without telling a soul. Yet a part of me just wanted to walk. Go until I couldn't walk anymore. I had an extra set of clothes in my back pack and went into the bathroom at the waffle house to add an extra layer.
By my 3rd cup of coffee I was shaking. An older fellow who is disabled and seemed just as depressed as me sat down at my table. I waited on him at Betty's back in '98 and I've seen him slowly deteriorate since. He was trying to find someone to clean his house for him. Then muttered about how awful his life was, how things were never going to get better, and how he should just give up. Although I felt bad for the guy, this is not what I needed at the time. In a sense he actually made me feel worse about my situation. How am I supposed to get over there? It's a long walk from my house. After last night and due to my own obstinacy, I know just how long it is.
The fourth and final cup came and Randy was still sitting there. I wanted to make him feel better but I had nothing to offer, and was honest about it. He said, "well, it wouldn't have worked out anyway....." I watched him limp out the door, and felt amazingly numb. I sat quietly, finished the last cup and pondered what its like to live the life of a homeless person. I did live in my car once.... but I had a car and job, so there was hope. There was a lady getting an order

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