Passport to Poverty

John lives in a room, a basement room and the only window in it is a small one, half of which looks into a side gutter running down the house. He had previously lived at the mens' shelter until his social worker found a "rental opportunity" for him.

"O, so close to downtown", she bubbled, "and the bus terminal. Why, you could go anywhere in the city. John thought this unlikely; bus travel is a luxury, she should know that.

"How much is a bus pass these days? Too much, i think."

"Well, perhaps it can be a goal, then".

The smile was still there, unbelievably, as they drove up to the "opportunity". She must have been making a joke of him for they both knew John's finances (550.00/month)). John liked to think she blushed but no, she kept on smiling.

They made a budget together:
Food
5 apples. 2.80
5 bananas 3.00
1 litre milk 2.89
6 pieces of ham - 3-4 sandwiches 1.75
1 loaf of white bread (cheapest and last longer) 1.79
3 boxes of Kraft Dinner 3.89
21 fresh beans (7 for three nights) 1.50
1 bag of carrots 2.79
1 box of oatmeal 4.29
1 lb. of coffee 4.99
1 small jar peanut butter 3.99
_____________________________________________________________
Total 33.68 x 4 = 118.76
Rent (for 8x10 room) 400
TOTAL 518.76
INCOME 550.00

BALANCE - 31.24 /4 = 7.81/WK.

John set a copy of that budget on his ceiling so he could stare at it all night and he dreamed and fancied what he would do with his 7 dollars and eighty-one cents.
A small coffee at Tim's most days of the week. A return ticket to the mall. A Big Mac meal. Maybe even all of this - hah! He'd find money on his travels this week, to be sure.

After he and his family went to church on Sundays, the owner of John's new home would come as "keeper of the peace" with a inspection of any damages from the weekend. Overlord of the property, he was quick to throw out any transgressors. No drugs, no women, no booze. Simple rules, you'd think, but hardly anyone was able to adhere and abstinent John met a new resident ever week or so. One might think this a flophouse, cubicle-sized rooms, a central bathroom but the linen was cleaned and replaced ever Friday and by early 20th century standards, this would be a home of some decor (drapes) and appointment (clean floors and windows, flowers in the yard).

Fights, knives, drunken and doped laughs for hours, silent early morning bliss while the hungover players from the night before were as dead as the living could be - this was lonely Johns' fare. Hushed talk of robberies and scams and confessions of crime. After a time, John was oblivious to them and Housemate John became Invisible John and his presence no longer required hushes and lowered voices or a break in crime strategizing. They loved to pop another pill, drink another beer, snort another ounce of whiskey, sniff another line or puff on the crazy pipe, blow another joint.

A resident man would say - "Don't worry 'bout the man there, boys. He's one of us and he's no snitch. Ain't that right, John-boy. That's all you can say"...hahahah....he might be switch, though. Angels have mercy - oooooweee! (loud guffaws from the various law-breakers at the table). Better snatch the switch before he snitches up, Marty". (continued laughing all around.

John washed dishes and slowly snaked his way back downstairs to his nest. A viper's nest? Not a snitch, not a switch, but a snake. John had it good - he was no snitch. John could see a brighter future.

You may not have fresh food for three weeks of the month. Forget about smoking. No drinking. You might have to wear dirty clothes in a pinch (or several pinches in a row). Laundry's a bitch. No teeth cleaning or regular check-ups at dentist EVER. Government approved drugs only. You probably have to live in a room. You start to think going to Food Bank is not such a bad deal. Thinking same about soup kitchen.

And just like that; John's no snitch, switch bitch. John's been promoted to snake.

Stay tuned for John's next adventure: "John meets Julie at McDonalds" from "Passport to Poverty".