Lingo Slinger

He was standing on the corner a few feet away while I waited for the streetcar. His presence made me kind of nervous in a “are you gonna pull out a knife and stab me” sort of way. He was pacing, nodding his head, and having an enthralling conversation with himself. I tried to observe him out of the corner of my eye without being obvious about it.

People who walked past him gave him a dirty or uncomfortable glance as they veered out of his way. I guess his tattered clothes, dirty dreads, and unstable demeanor made people uneasy, me included. He started singing loudly, something about Jesus, and began moving closer to me.

I threw the last of my smoke on the ground and was about to step on it when he shouted “WAIT”. He swooped over and picked it up inhaling the last few hauls like a fiend. I smiled at him and took two steps back.

He caught me off guard when he asked “So what, are you scared of me?”

“I don’t know” I said “Should I be?”

He started laughing hysterically, nodding his head “seen… I like you girl. You honest. Not like the others.” He pointed to across the street “They – none of them are honest. None of them.”

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Here? Like you mean on this earth, on this street, in this city?” He asked

“I just mean on the street. What happened?”

He stopped his aggressive pacing, looked down, and then back up at me. “Take off your glasses. I want to see your eyes.”

This made me very uncomforable, but I didn’t want to disrespect him, so I did.

“I am here because I fucked up.” he said “I used to have a job, a wife, a kid, and a life… Now, I’m just happy if I make it through the day with a decent place to sleep and without getting dope sick.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry gal. I made my bed out here on this street. I am the manifestation of my decisions. It’s hard to imagine me going back to join THEM out there in society now. I’m just a muthafuckin junkie. People don’t wanna talk to me, don’t wanna be near me, and don’t even wanna be on the same sidewalk as me.”

“I do” I said.

He kept singing:

“Glory be to Jesus, Who, in bitter pains,
Poured for me the lifeblood
From His sacred veins!”

Tears were falling from his eyes as he stared up at the sky looking for salvation.

My streetcar showed up and stopped in front of me. He looked at me sadly, the way he probably looked at any stranger who gave him the time of day. He was lonely and a little crazy, but there was a soul left inside that body even if it was being held hostage by a depraved junkie.

I waved the streetcar on.

“Wasn’t that your ride?” he asked

“It was, but I can catch another one. What are you doing right now? Do you wanna go grab a coffee?”

He laughed heartily, exposing his missing teeth. The lines around his eyes becoming more pronounced as he squinted in amusement. “Why would you wanna go for coffee with a washed up ol’ junkie like me girlfriend?”

“Why wouldn’t I. Now that I know you’re not gonna kill me or steal my purse I am perfectly comfortable around you. But first I will at least need to know your name.”

He looked at me with a huge amount of gratitude, smiled and said “Oscar”

We hung out at the Second Cup for a while. Cleared a few tables beside us and amassed an incredible amount of judgemental looks from most of the patrons. Oscar wasn’t phased by this. He kept up with his shifty twitches and mannerisms, occasional talks with himself, and spontaneous lyrics.

But he also shared a lot about his former life with me. Told me about how his wife cheated on him, then took off with his daughter and took him to court to seek full custody claiming that he was abusive.

“My daughter was my rock man… My reason for being here. When she took that away from me, what did I have? Nothing!”

“Did you ever try to go back to court and get joint custody?”

“Nah… I had my wages garnished for a while, her punk ass boyfriend threatening me with the bullshit she fed him, and then I got into the junk. In less than a year I lost my job, my car, my apartment, and my friends. And now… I’m here.”

I sat with Oscar for just over an hour and then we started walking back to the streetcar stop. We passed a huge beautiful church. I noticed him looking at it with hopeful eyes.

“You ever go in there?” I asked

“I couldn’t” he said “Not like this.”

“Sure you can. You should. Here – let’s go. I’ll come with you”

I tried to ignore my extreme discomfort with churches and organized religion as a whole, and went through the front doors with him. I stayed back as he walked up to the front and knelt in a pew to pray. The church was quiet. The sounds of the city blocked out. It was actually kind of nice.

A few minutes later he walked up and said “Listen – I think I am gonna hang here for a while. You better go catch that streetcar”

“Okay Oscar” I said “Take care of yourself okay”

That day never did leave me. Every time I returned to that neighbourhood I looked for him. I purposefully walked a few extra blocks just with the hope that I might see him talking to himself on a street corner, singing his Jesus song, or making people uncomfortable with his sketchy but friendly demeanor.

But… I never did.