Came home from work yesterday ambling down side streets. While I know it may not be the "safest" way to get home, I think sidestreets offer a way to see the same parts of town in a different light. There were a group of homeless kids sprawled out on the side.
One remembered me from a few days ago and ran over to give me a hug, "HEEEY CUTIE!"
"Hey brohan! How goes it?"
"Oh... you know... same ol'. My parents called me a faggot again today."
"That sucks," I sighed, "I'm sorry."
He sighed, "Oh you know... price you pay for bein' yourself sometimes... I look really good in this dress, don't you think?"
I smiled, "Sure."
A heavyset girl waddles over to us wearing ratty jeans and a muscle shirt. They barely cover up the right parts. She looks me over and smiles, "You lookin'?"
"No thanks..." I quickly replied. I don't know what I should be "lookin'" for, but in this part of town, I'm betting it's not something I need.
She rolls her eyes, "Whatever..."
My cross dressing friend gave her a playful push, "Hey... leave him alone. He's a good man."
"Um... thanks?" I reply back.
"You are a good man. You and that bearded guy [I think he was referring to my boss] are the only ones down here who say 'hi' to me."
As my eyes met theirs a loneliness begin to fade. I saw a mirror staring back at me. I was almost in their shoes: broke as a joke and sometimes stupid lonely. However, there was a hope in their eyes: a hope that seemed contagious. A hope that kept me going that day.
I now say "hi" to everyone down here. You never know when Christ will be the one saying "hi" back.
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