A man with one leg is hollerin' at a gal, Cole is giving people a light like fire was just invented, and the guy with the 2nd longest beard doesn't care for caution while pissing in the corner of the bus stop. Bgirls and bois, welcome to San FranFuckingCisco (to quote the t-shirt I almost bought on Haight St.) Cole admits to being homeless for several months. Excuse me, he less admits, but more openly slides that bit of info in with his love for Los Coyotes tacos. They bear the same importance to him. Homelessness was a phase in his life, whereas for me it crushes my soul to think of it. They say the homeless in Minneapolis have a different name for death, it's called "February". SanFran gets as cold as 50, but Mpls drops to -10... which I feel safe with dropping in the category of "Soul Crushing". Listening to Cole, watching the scenery, hearing the one-legged man spit game as well as he can, I come to the realization... not only do I have it pretty fuckin' good, but I have it REALLY fuckin' good.
Perception is reality (I half believe) holds true to our situation as I wait for the BART with Cole on 16th and Mission. Everyone within a block radius could easily give up at any moment, snap, grab the 9 and unload it on the entire neighborhood... but we don't. This current state of co-existence seems to suffice enough for everyone's comfort to not bother the man pissing in the corner of the bus stop.
Cole speaks of his father, Alfred. How he gave him the spine to stand up in front of a crowd of people and dance, laugh, perform, everything. I still don't know what I've been passed along from my father. Alfred served as one of the several most important men in my life. He took myself, Cole, and Will out to the bus stop for elementary school, he taught us theatre, taught us to stand up on stage... he gave me a spine as well. For the moment, it's not so soul crushing to be homeless for this trip in San Francisco. I'll thank Cole later for giving me the spine to be ok with not having a roof over my head.