Hey little butterfly/ would you slip me some on the side
The homeless man on the street, talking jibberish, makes A. nervous. Itellyawhati’mthegirlyou’refuckingthegirlhe’stheman! We have come from middleclass families, with suburban neighborhoods, and do not know how to deal with this element, just standing there stupidly. I give the guy two bucks, enough to buy another beer. A. inexplicably gives $5.00. “Are you serious?” I ask him later. “You gave him five?” Giving two, I feel like I deserve a gold star. Something creeps up within me. I feel bad. The only thing separating me from being a homeless person is my parents continually giving free handouts, to more or less articulate solicitations. A. must feel really bad, I deduce.

Back in the bar, I see some guy I used to know. He’s slumped down in his beer, writing what could be the great American manifesto or just some kind of love letter. “How’s everything going?” I ask him. “Not too good,” he fills me in. “I just broke up with my wife.” I don’t know what to say. I haven’t even made eye contact with a girl in days. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him. “That’s too bad.” He looks pretty broken up and I’m totally unversed in the etiquette of failed marriages to know what to say. I should have bought him a beer, maybe. I don’t know.

Walking back to my seat, I think of a picture I’ve recently seen in a book. It’s a photograph of William Burroughs seated before a gigantic placard, while smoking a joint. The text reads, Life is a Killer, in gigantic print. The homeless person and the divorcee are the same then, soaking up their sorrows in the brine of spirits and others. I don’t really have much of an excuse, I realize. I sort of feel alright tonight and so I buy A. the next one. On the way out, I tell the bartender, “Get that guy another one of whatever he’s drinking,” and she gestures magically to the end of the bar, where our acquaintance is scribbling away on his piece of paper, to where she will deliver the balm. Back out on the street, we hustle by the homeless person, who is now giving hugs to nervous bystanders, in exchange for a dollar.