I was abused at McDonald’s.
On the one hand, I’ve kept silent about this for four years, lest my coming forward constitute retaliation; I don’t believe in retaliation. On the other hand, with almost daily news reports about fast food workers abusing customers and the police being called, I would be remiss if I don’t share my story also.
I have screen shots of my diary from the days in question. I also have the original pertinent e-mails from McDonald’s.
Bottom line: Will you, or will you not, get on with life?
Continue reading “I shoulda had somebody crack your head open.”
As long as you’re complaining
— about ANY THING —
you’re not doing what you can.
As remarked recently, I am almost never verbally insulted for being homeless.
The insults that do come are events at the clothes window, in the shower room at the shelter.
Continue reading The Ph.D. and her pettiness
Not more than twice have I taken verbal abuse for being homeless.
Here is the more memorable of those events. Continue reading Hassan
Transcribed from my diary for Sunday 2017-03-12, for now I am intentionally leaving this unfinished.
Rough day at BK. I may not have the guts to recall and tell it all. But behind it I feel certain of (1) what Jesus did among the poor, and (2) what my task is at the shelter, and what it takes for me to leave. (3) I have suspected for some time that the real means of wealth creation, of upward mobility, is different from anything we have ever imagined. I have a notion of what it may be, and enough confidence in it to act on it, but it’s still very hard to believe.
The question is whether these certainties are enough to overcome my fear of uncertainty, my fear of the unknown.
Continue reading Rough day at BK