MAYBE IT'S HOPELESS

     That sweet man who mopped and cleaned for us, out of the goodness of his heart (the one who accidentally crashed all the drink bottles last week)... he was caught stealing from an office worker and doing drugs. I'm so disappointed.
     The cute gal who holds a managerial position at the shelter and who often kept the gate is leaving. It is said that she has another job and that she is moving. Doug told me today that she was seen buying drugs this week. One would never imagine such from her! I'm so disappointed.
     Ex-gatekeeper, Doug and I took turns checking the front door, letting folks in as needed. And THEN, one of the residents LET IN a stranger with a backpack! The guy got all the way into the dining room before he was spotted and shown the door. No one would own up to having let him in. Disappointing (and kinda scary).
     The very tall trans fellow is still working at the hotel across the street. He came for a lunch today, and I gave him food and drinks to take with him. I asked about his job. He was not angry today. Doug says he's been in prison several times. So young, so messed up. What's a mother to do?
     In the vacant lot across the side street, a young woman had set up camp. She was lying on her back under a blanket, knees raised, when I arrived. Later, she came to ask to use the bathroom. We don't have a bathroom for the street folks. Doug and ex-gatekeeper watched her move her camp into the shade after lunchtime and observed her relieving herself. On one of my turns to check the front door, I let her into the foyer and out again. She's barefooted, tatted well, unkempt—looks like she's been sent for, couldn't go, and wouldn't do after she got there. So young, so lost.
     Both of the little boys were at lunch, and I gave them treats. Neither of them cares for school… and that bothers me. Their favorite subjects are recess and P.E.
     I have failed to report on Kevin. Kevin has been assigned to a cell at the local facility for the next couple of years. Maybe he'll get clean, but I don't believe anything will remedy his mental skew. We miss Kevin; I'd like to visit him, but Doug is adamantly opposed to that.
     We served donated slider sandwiches for lunch. They were good. We put baked beans on the side. Fancy Lady ate a good lunch for a change. I noticed that some of her fingers were a very strange shade of whitish yellow, and they weren't necessarily adjoining fingers. Her face was not of a healthy color either. 
     I left before Doug and ex-gatekeeper prepared the dinner plates of soggy, donated fried chicken. There was little to do, and standing around is hard.
     Here's the young woman who was camped in the vacant lot... I do wonder if she has a plan for after dark... or where she was last night... or why she has obviously left another life. Did her family abuse her? Is she "simply" on drugs? So many lost souls in such a small community; they are surely a mass in San Francisco. Yes, let's get rid of those unsightly people sleeping in expensive California doorways—maybe erect some detention centers with chain-link fences...