PEACE, AT LAST!

      I sent three messages to Doug last Sunday evening, 1) "…that IDIOT loiterer/harassing thief is about to come between me and the kitchen…"

2) "Reaching the end of my rope. All I ask for is Sunday mornings. Asking too much?"

       I got NO response and wrote one last time: 3) "Guess I AM asking too much. Call me if he gives up his Sunday position."

       It was a few days later before I heard that Doug's mother was in hospital—but even that shouldn't have affected his texting finger for so long. Then, on Friday, I heard from Doug: He had TOLD Helpful to not show up on Sunday! "Sundays are Miss Joy's day, and you need to not come in then." That was at least the second time Helpful has been given those instructions.

       So I was "cautiously optimistic" climbing the back steps this morning. The back door was closed against the cold rain, and until Mr. A.'s smiling face greeted me, I had no clue what to expect. I peered in to check out the situation, but only he and Doug were there. Nobody said anything about Helpful… and I didn't ask.

       Later, the guys were talking about "the woman at the other back door in a bathing suit." Mr. A. saw her there this morning and mentioned it to Gatekeeper. Gatekeeper said she'd already asked the woman to vacate. Mr. A. said the woman was wearing only a tank-style swim suit. When I couldn't relate to the "back door" he was talking about, he took me outside and showed it to me. There, just outside that door were some large white plastic bags, an empty water bottle, and some small bits of litter. Apparently, this very delusional woman has been "sleeping" there on the concrete for a night or two… and just last night I had to move my nightstand to the other side of the bed so I would be using the mattress sides in equal portions…

       Anyway, out on the sidewalk, out of earshot, Mr. A. told me that he had come in at 7:30 this morning (hours before Doug) and that Helpful had shown up! So Mr. A. took matters into his own hands and ran the idiot off—"It's Miss Joy's day!"

       He didn't tell Doug, so Doug thinks his own soft words to Helpful last Thursday did the trick. Not.

       Doug was unusually quiet and sensitive for the first 90 minutes, and I was assuming it had to do with work-related issues in that dysfunctional place… but I was wrong. It's always interesting to watch that boy's mood swing from far left to far right, and once he's UP again, he's open about his issues: Today Mama comes home from the hospital! Doug was emotionally pacing the floor, waiting for the call. Once that happened, there was CW music and three jolly workers in the kitchen. Amazing. Simply amazing.

       And peaceful… and functional… and pleasant… AND I was able to actually speak to each person who came to lunch. There was time to give them eye contact and ask about their day. Wow.

      …and (chuckle!) we have a tall exceptionally handsome fellow among our pre-release who is always the first one to come to lunch, and who never waits for us to announce lunch… so he came "too soon" today, as usual. To his own undoing, he took a plate and left the counter before I had a chance to add the big, chocolate-chunk cookie. A few minutes later, there he stood, head bowed, lower lip out a bit, eyes downcast saying (like a consummate 4-year-old), "I didn't get a cookie."

       The babies got toys, the 12-year-old got books, more crayons, gum… her mother always nags her about saying thank you, but the child's face says it just as plainly as if she were on the P.A.

       We had those el-cheapo shelter hotdogs, buns, sliced tomato, chopped onion, potato salad, and cookies.

       As for Death-In-A-Tub, Doug did not order last week's nasty replacement (Miss Lillian did), but Doug will see to it that the real stuff is returned to its rightful place on the next order sheet.

       Some people are still trying to throw Doug under the bus, and his stories always amuse me. This week's goes like this: Doug's day off was Tuesday. He's not responsible for the kitchen on his days off. Miss Lillian told someone not connected with the kitchen that she wouldn't be in on Tuesday, and as it turned out Doug was called in on the carpet as missing in action. So he asked the Bureau of Prisons Head Patootie, "Do you have to answer to the other folks here on your day off?" No, she doesn't. And now she seems to get the picture. How long she'll retain the picture is anybody's guess, but I do detest dull moments. Don't you?