McDonald’s Breakfast $28
LOS ANGELES, CAIt was the middle of month in the middle of Los Angeles and I was walking around the park I walk around every morning, sometimes in the evening too. I had my white airpods in my head, I’m sure the government was tracking my location just in case the camera’s that line every brick building I walk by failed to record a crime. I was at the end of my luck and I still hadn’t caught my big break yet. I only had $437 left in my bank account, after my high paying New York City Ad Agency job abruptly ended. I can’t get into the details but it was dirty business, what they did to me. Even my boss, the guy who hand-selected me both ways, in and out, knew it.
When I lived in New York we sat across from each other in the office. Each morning we would shoot the shit like buddy’s do. On the days we both came in, we both got to the office early, when things were still quiet. With 3 minutes to spare before his first meeting, I’d lob whatever ideas I had his way, as I took a sip from my cup of just-poured-hot coffee and he’d unpack his company laptop from his backpack. We were pals, until we weren’t. Getting rid of me was for the best, the whole team knew it. I was strong and unwavering, I made a habit of making a point. I hated the place but I was too good to do what they did to me. I was happy to be freed but I could’ve never foreseen the troubles headed my way once I lost my means of income. I never did move into my apartment.
I never did recover from the loss. I still haven’t but after what happened in May, I could no longer hold the grudge against my old company for the wreckage that was now my every day life. Things got personal and it just wasn’t my year. I didn’t have the words to tell the people I left in my past how terrible things had gotten for me, how dark the world around me had been colored. I thought things would get better over the summer, but they didn’t. They got more dark.
Bleeding out in public, without a friend or foe at my side, I started to hide for my own safety and sanity. I was strong but I wasn’t strong enough for the events that occured that summer in Los Angeles. I’m told the city breaks you before it makes you but I still haven’t received a pay check from this land.
These are the kinds of things I think about as I’m walking around the park I walk around every morning and sometimes in the evenings. On this day, I passed a black homeless man, about 65. I pass him in the morning whenever I make it to the park before 8:3Oam and sometimes after. He was a familiar face, we both knew each other because he sits on the same bench each day. I always try to acknowledge the homeless when I can. If they look up when I’m passing, I like to give them a warm smile back and reassure them, someone still knows they exist in the world. My best friend has been homeless before and so I try to think what I would do if the homeless I pass was someone who used to have a best friend.
I walk around the middle of Los Angeles a lot and one thing I can say with certainty is that a lot of the homeless are men. I’d say about 95% are men. It’s not surprising but it does make you wonder why. On this day in the middle of the month, the black homeless man, about 65 years old, looked up as I was passing. Instead of looking for a smile back, he raised his head and opened his eyes like he had been waiting for me to pass. Within a moment’s intuition I knew he had something to ask of me and I didn’t mind hearing him out. He told me he had five dollars and asked if I could take it to the McDonald’s around the corner and get him breakfast. He listed off a few items and told me it was a breakfast special on the menu.
Now, I knew there was no McDonald’s around the corner and I knew there was no way a five dollar bill could cover the cost of what he was suggesting but it was a Sunday and I didn’t have any plans for the day. I had made it to the park before 8am and I usually write in the afternoon on Sunday’s so I thought - why not help this man?
So I agreed. I agreed to walk 18 minutes to the McDonald’s, pick him up what he asked for and carry it back to the park, another 18 minutes back by foot. It was a long assignment but like I said, I didn’t have anything planned until the afternoon and if I could get a story in before 11am, the writing would spill out of me by the time I got to my pen and paper.
When I got to the McDonald’s I ordered him two of the breakfast specials he requested, a coffee and an orange juice. I added a sausage biscuit for myself to eat on the walk back. The total was $28 and I was on the last of my savings but I believe in good will and I thought god might be sending me my final test before blessing me with everything I’ve dreamed of - a writing career in Hollywood.
On the way back I thought about this rare opportunity. The chance to not just pass a homeless man but to speak to him. I thought - what would I ask him if I could only ask one question? I thought about how it must feel to be homeless, to have something and then one day, have nothing. I wondered who he was before he was no one on the street, if he had a family, or anyone who wanted to know where he was. I wondered what he did before he became a begger on a bench. I thought if I could only ask him one question, I wanted to know how we was of service to this fine land. If I could only ask him one question, I wanted an answer I could use to help him when I had the means to.
I asked him - what did you do before you were homeless?
He told me he was a Motown industry singer.