By Debbie Bulloch
It is already the 11th day of the New Year. Christmas decorations have been put away, the Christmas tree is down, and all the New Year’s Day champagne is gone. I already miss the Christmas holidays: the bright lights, the pretty decorations and all those wonderful smells.
Anyway, a whole full 11 days have passed since the beginning of 2009 and I have not written a new blog post. I feel like such a lazy bum!
In my own defense, I have been very busy both at home and at work. As a further excuse, I am suffering from a bad (OK, maybe just a mild) case of sinus infection. My head feels as if it is about to explode and the pressure above my eyes makes me feel like my head is being squeezed by a big old wooden vise – you know, like the kind the Spanish Inquisition used in order to persuade people to “confess.” Alright, maybe I am exaggerating just a tad, but I do feel crummy (isn’t it nice, I am hosting my own sympathy party).
Before I go on, however, I wish to thank everyone who made my birthday such a nice, memorable day. It is not always easy being a New Year’s Day baby – everyone is too tired or too busy to remember your birthday. But this year I was overwhelmed with all the good wishes from SL and RL friends. Thank you all for making my birthday such a memorable one. Also, a belated thank you goes to my beloved USC Trojans for yet another victory at the Rose Bowl. When will all those other teams finally realize that the Rose Bowl is USC’s home? GO TROJANS!
Well, back to the business at hand – to finally write the first blog post of the year. On Tuesday I finally broke down and decided to go and see my doctor. After listening to my lungs and heart (gad I hate that cold stethoscope) my doctor confirmed what I already knew: I am suffering from a sinus infection. So the doctor wrote out a prescription for antibiotics and sent me off on my merry way.
As I walked out on the parking lot I noticed a young woman standing about 10 meters away from my car. Something about the way she looked and the way she dressed told me that did not belong there. Instantly, my radar went on overdrive and I could hear all sorts of alarm bells going off.
The parking lot was deserted, except for the young woman and me. Although she did not look like the type who would try to harm me common sense and experience warned me to be prepared, just in case the young woman was planning to do “something.” As I walked towards my car, she began to walk directly towards me – clearly intending to intercept my path. Great, I thought to myself, now I am going to have to deal with this person. I am not an unfriendly person but I have learned, from painful personal experience, that casual street encounters with strangers, even one as young and harmless as she appeared to be, always have the potential for ending badly.
As she walked closer to me I did what experience and my friends at the police department have taught me to do, I made direct eye contact with the young woman. My gaze seemed to have caught her by surprise, as if she did not expect me to look straight at her. She stopped and looked down on the floor.
That is when something odd happened. I looked into her eyes I noticed that she seemed to be as wary of me as I was of her. Then I noticed something even more surprising – looking into the girl’s soft green eyes was like staring into a mirror and seeing a reflection of me twenty years ago. Slowly I let down my guard and half-smiled at the girl. Then I spoke to her:
“Good morning,” I said to her, “may I help you?”
My words took her by surprise. She shook her head, turned on her heels and began to walk away from me.
“Wait, please stop” I pled with her. “I was just wondering if I could help you with something.”
She turned around and I could see that her clothing, while clean, were old and out of fashion. It was a fairly chilly morning (for Southern California standards) and the girl was wearing just a simple cotton dress which obviously did not manage to keep her warm.
“Come on, I can tell that you were about to ask me something, don’t stop, I won’t bite” I said to her trying my level best to appear friendly and open.
“OK,” she replied, “can I have a couple of bucks?”
Great, I guess my instincts were wrong and the girl was probably just another druggie trying to score some money for her next drug buy. Now I was upset with myself for letting my guard down.
“What do you want the money for, to buy drugs?” I asked her in a harsh tone.
She looked up from the floor and her green eyes locked on mine. Her answer struck straight at my heart.
“I am not a user, I am just very hungry.”
I was still not convinced, so I cross-examined her further.
“Are you really hungry, or are you just giving me some BS?” I said to her. “I have heard just about every line of BS and I am not a fool.”
The girl looked at me and in her eyes I could see a mixture of sadness and anger.
“Look lady, if you don’t want to help me, fine, keep your money. Just don’t accuse of me being a liar. I am really hungry.”
It is a sad commentary that in the USA, the richest country in the history of the world and in California, one of the richest states in the entire country, there should still be people who are hungry. I have previously posted here regarding the number of homeless and hungry people living in Southern California - the world’s Entertainment Capital. As the worldwide economy worsens, the number of homeless and hungry people will continue to increase. Which leaves us with this question: what are we going to do, as a society and as individuals, to end the suffering of the hungry and the homeless?
Think about it and then do something about it...please.
I looked at her and I said. “Look, if you are really hungry let’s go and get some breakfast, I just came out of the doctor and have not had breakfast and I am…”
I was about to say that I was starved, but that would have been cruelly ironic. So Instead I told her that I too could use a bite to eat.
“Do you have a car to follow me?” I asked her.
“Lady, I don’t have enough money to feed myself, how could I afford a car?”
“Well, there is a little breakfast place not too far from here, we could drive in together and we can get a bite to eat.” She looked like she did not trust me, as if she was afraid that if she got in my car I was going to take her to the nearest police station. I could read the doubt on her eyes. I opened my purse, took out my wallet and showed her pictures of my daughter.
“Look, I have a daughter about your age. I am a mom; I am not going to hurt you.” Then I added. “Plus I know what you are going through.”
She looked at me in disbelief.
“You know what is like to be like me, hungry?”
“As a matter of fact, I do, but we can talk about that later.” Smiling, I then added. “I could give you the money if you want it, and you can get your own food, but I could really use someone to talk to. So how about it, will you come with me?”
She finally seemed convinced and sop she followed me to my car. We both got in and then drove off to the restaurant. During the five minute drive from my doctor’s office to the restaurant the young woman did not speak a word. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her staring out the window, like a little kid going on her first car trip.
When we got to the restaurant she smiled, for the first time since we first met, and said to me, “Hey, I know this place, my parents used to bring me here.”
“So you are a local girl?” I asked.
“Well, I was born in this area,” she answered, “…then my parents got divorced and mom and my brother and I went to live in Florida. But I like it better here, so I moved back a while ago.”
The girl’s tale of divorcing parents and family displacement sounded all too familiar to me.
Next: Part Two - A Girl Just Like Me
