Renegade

November

November 1, 2017

Dear Miss Catherine,

Homelessness is a pervasive phenomenon, not just in the city, but also among the student population.

I had my door open yesterday evening while I was working on my Econ homework, and two guys sitting in the lounge across the hall were discussing accommodation options for a two-day hackathon that's coming up at another name-brand university a couple hours away. Anyway, one of these guys had a scooter with half the paint chipped off laying on the floor next to his chair, and his friend in a slouchy hoodie was slouching so far in his chair that he was making an isosceles triangle with the seat and backrest.

The slouchy friend had an open can of Monster next to his laptop because we are in the throes of grind season with midterm after midterm—called that even though there's sometimes three or four "midterm" exams for one class and so no longer held during the middle of the term.

The guy with the half-chipped scooter said, "Dude, we need to sort out this rooming situation soon."

His slouching friend said, "Nah, I'm sure we can find an Airbnb somewhere nearby."

"I don't want to be homeless for two nights," came the nervous reply.

"We won't be homeless for two nights," returned the confident response.

"I don't want to be wandering around the streets of Sienna late on a Friday evening."

"Aw, come on. Even if it's we can't find housing, we won't be wandering around Sienna."

"Oh? Where're you gonna stay?" Scooter Dude was incredulous.

"We can just crash in the auditorium."

Last-ditch free housing, folks.

"The auditorium?! It'll be closed. It's locked until Saturday!"

"Oh! Ah. Ok. I'm going to ask my friend at Sienna right now if he has any extra space for us."

"I love how this is progressing."

"Hmm..."

Scooter Dude flopped back in his chair so violently that I thought the chair was going to snap.

"If I wasn't going also, and you were going by yourself, you'd just be like, 'Oh well... If I can't find housing, I'll just sleep in the auditorium,' and when you get there and find out it's closed, you'll be like 'WTF! I'm homeless!'"

(Side note: I'm using an abbreviation. The actual speaker did not.)

Speaking of which, Danny can add another specimen to her little jar of hearts.

There's a homeless dude who's two years older than us and in one of her classes that everyone needs to take to graduate, which some people (that's her) choose to get out of the way as soon as possible, and others (that's him) choose to push off until it becomes inevitable. This guy asked her out to coffee once. There will be no more repeats.

He is purportedly on the school's wrestling team and does not pay the rent for housing either on- or off-campus. Upperclassmen have the luxury to reject on-campus housing. We, on the other hand, must be resigned to our fate in these moldy, roach- and rat-infested quarters. He prides himself on saving money for a start-up venture. I thought this was strange because, as Mr. Pontellier told his awakened wife in the literary embodiment of Chopin's Ocean Étude, the way to become rich is to make money, not save it, so someone who really has a viable idea should go seek out angel investors or VC funding (OCR teaches you more about how this world works than the hoary and sometimes horny professors) and not loll around campus, homeless, trying to scrimp pennies.