breakfast with Andrew or Geoff

Mansfield has one homeless man that I see on a semi-regular basis.
He doesn't look like he should be homeless.
He looks more like someone I went to highschool with.
Who could really use a shower.

This morning I saw on my way home from getting coffee, and pulled over like I occasionally do.
I didn't have any cash.
So I went next door and got some breakfast instead.
Two sausage egg and cheese bisquits.
And I pulled them out.
And he remembered me.
And we sat on the stoop and ate our breakfasts together.

And introduced himself as Andrew.
Which is probably not his real name.
Because later he told me a different one.
And we jumped right into our stories.

Before getting on to me about what is "safe"....
I don't really think we are called to safe.
But nonetheless I didn't give him my last name or social security # or address or anything crazy like that. (well one thing crazy, and maybe we will talk about that later).

I didn't ask.
But he told me bits about how he got here.
That he used to be a newspaper writer.
And that he has been homeless for 7 years.
And told me that he has a facebook.
I whispered my secret dream of being a writer too.
I asked him a little about how it is and if people are nice to him and if the weather is warm enough.
He sang me a song about his life. Which had a little something for everyone alcohol, Jesus, women and dumpsters.
We laughed.
And not the awkward I'm not sure what to say laughs.
But real true laughs.
And we ate our bisquits.

And as I got up to leave, he thanked me and opened his arms for a hug.
He smelled of cigarettes and sleeping outside.
But I hugged him anyways.
I thanked him for one of the most real conversations I've had in months.

Even if his name really isn't Andrew.