I helped a relative
move the other day. On the way to his apartment his friend Sean asked me if we
could stop at the Mission Norman to pick up some food because they were out and
their food stamp card wouldn't kick in until the 1st. The mission
was close to the apartment so I agreed.
The parking lot was a field next to the house. They put a
layer of gravel over the dirt so you wouldn't sink if it rained. Not only had
it rained but it also snowed a few days ago. They had stakes in the ground
surrounding the edges to warn drivers not to veer on the gravel. I was leery of
pulling in because the lot was full and I didn't see anywhere to turn around
with the trailer.
I pulled in and dropped them off. There looked like a place
to turn around in the back area of the parking lot so I tried to go around a
dumb ass that parked in the way and got stuck in the mud. I was able to get
unstuck in four-wheel drive and pulled up in the back,parked, and waited until two people that parked in
front of each other pulled out. I drove
in and took both spaces with the trailer. Now I could just pull out without
backing up or get stuck in the mud again.
My relative came out after a few minutes and said it was
going to be 30 minutes or more. I told him I would wait in the truck; I sure didn't want any of these people to park too close to my truck and bang it with
their doors. I normally park way out far away from anyone to prevent that from
happening.
As I sat there and watched the people going in the building
and others coming out with boxes of food, I tried to imagine what their
individual story was. How was it they got to this point in their lives where
they are relying on others for hand outs? Was it a loss of a job, drugs,
alcohol, scamming the system, or just honest poverty?
I tried to gather clues by looking at the vehicles they came
in. The nicer vehicles like the SUVs and the later models, I thought maybe the
ones who lost their jobs or the scammers. The older beat-up vehicles; were
under educated living hand to mouth so to speak. Some of those were the drug
and alcohol types who spent their money or sold their food stamps on their
choice of poison. They came here to get enough food to keep them alive until l
the next time they are able to come here again or other places that dole out
free food.
I got more clues from the people themselves. The way they
were dressed, groomed, posture, even the way they walked. To some it was a way
of live, others it was degrading. One particular Hispanic lady was there with
her daughter and she looked like it bothered her. The daughter, dressed in her
flashy jeans, seemed to be right at home.
Most of these folks with a couple of exceptions (druggies) were
overweight and looked like they are on a poor man’s diet containing more starch
and processed foods than fruits and vegetables. Their hair and complexions were
not healthy looking.
Some of the lazy or smarter ones pulled their vehicles up in
front of the building in the street and loaded up. The more ambitious or the
one who didn't want to be seen carried their treasures to their vehicles in the
makeshift parking lot.
As I am people watching, I am also concerned about someone
pulling in the space next to me and not pulling up far enough so I can make the
turn with the trailer to get out. I thought I was in trouble when this big red
truck, with holes covered with Bondo, pulled through the parking spot within
inches of my mirrors. Lucky for me he
kept going to the rear parking area and parked back there. There is no way he
could have opened his doors without bumping me or the other car with his doors.
Another car drove up
next to me and parked in that spot. I noticed it was a woman who was driving
and a man in the passenger seat and possibly some kids in the back. The woman
got out and tried not to bang my mirror but failed. Her husband tried to tell her
to be careful not to hit it but before he got the mirror part out of his lips
it was too late. She went into the
mission and he stayed behind yelling at the kids. It turned out they were not
kids but two dogs. He yelled something
out at me and at the same time a woman was walking by with her arms full of
food. She looked over at me with the look of “What? You talking to me?” He
yelled again and asked if I was able to move the mirrors. I thought he was
being a smart ass because his wife hit my mirror earlier so I moved them in
with the button. As it turned out he wanted to know if the mirrors would extend
and retract.
After a few minutes of yelling at his dogs he got out and walked
over to my door. He asked me if I knew a roofer. I guess I looked the part with
a truck pulling a trailer with a tarp covering something. He explained he was
trying to get the roof on his house repaired and he didn't have any luck
finding someone who would do the repairs his way without charging a fortune. He told me he was a cancer survivor and the
city of Norman gave him some money to repair the place. If he stayed in this
house for four or five years he wouldn't have to pay back the loan.
I was just starting to enjoy the conversation when my
relative and his friend came out carrying the food that would keep them alive
until their food stamps kicked in.
