Incidental Confrontation
   Does he feel homeless when he stays at his desert campsite 50 miles
from Tucson?  No!  But now, fifty miles from his "real home", surrounded
by people, he often feels lonely and hopelessly misplaced.    Last night
two fellow "campers" confronted him for flying a sign on "their corner".
He'd been there first.  He pointed out that since they were sitting at the
signpost and he was walking up and down the line of cars awaiting the
left turn signal, that "we wouldn't interfere with one another".
   He was countered with the accusation, "You're interfering with our
traffic".
   Boredom or perhaps lack of success, maybe growing a little more
crazy than he knew in this poisoned environment, he angrily retorted,
"no one was here when I got here and I'm staying"!
   Verbal abuse and a threat to, "flatten you're bicycle tires", to his back
as he was walking down the line.
   Half turning, without stopping, and putting on the most malevelant
squint eyed smile he has in stock, he thinks, "how absurd and foolish
this is to be competing with idiots for a 'corner' the police will 
eventually drive us all from".  He returned to their attitude fortified 
position with an oral flanking manuever, "This is ridiculous, we're 
doing the same thing to each other that everyone else does.  It is 
what causes us to be here in the first place".
   "Your'e ridiculous!  You don't know nothin'!  You're not one of us! 
You're not a 'camper'.  You say the world's got problems but you got 
the problem.  You're stupid!"
   Victor'd had enough.  It was bad enough to be rejected and unwanted by
all of society, but to be discarded by the unpeople as well?  It was more 
than he was ready to accept.  
   "F--- you!!", as he walked back down the column of commuters. Some of 
them hid their smiles.  He wondered if they'd be amused if they realized 
that though these apparently childish altercations are usually all puff and 
bluff, that much too often the participants consider them serious enough to 
maim or kill one another in order to settle.  If they did know would they 
care?  Would they laugh if they knew they were laughing at a mockery 
of themselves?
   The Sun was out of sight and the light was fading.  He'd been there ten 
minutes longer than he planned.  He couldn't cave in or the rumor would 
spread faster than the internet.  Then he'd have worse problems 
wherever he went.  Isn't it ironic how capitalism reduces us all to the 
lowest common denominator?  He walked back towards their reclining 
post as the cars filed out of the lane.  
   The male was ready for him.  "You're an asshole!"
   "Suck mine!"
   "You ain't gotta d---!"
   Low and slow and looking hard into his adversary's eyes.  "You're mama 
knows I do".
   "Well... well... that's ok", the last looking down and barely audible. Victor's
foe seemed at a loss.  Victor just laughed at his opponent's failure to
recognise the time to get up or shut up.  Then he said, as he started
down the string of new arrivals, "now that its dark, I'd like to leave but
if you keep talking I'll be here all night".  He'd provided a face saving
out for all of them, though none were oriental.  Actually he prefered
getting the last word to not getting cold.
   The sedentary soldier's girlfriend spoke to him while the walker made
his tour. When he returned it was to averted eyes and silence. He retired
from the median to his bike on the corner and mounting he road "home".
The next morning he packed up and moved to a new campsite.  There
would be no second thoughts leading to covert reprisals.  He wondered
if it would be the police or some other circumstance that would drive him
from the last refuge on the planet.  He wondered if he'd recognise the last
place when he got there.
   And he hadn't been given a dime on that "corner".  And he would
accept any reasonable offer of employment.    Sixty Minutes is full of shit!


				  (c)Copyright 1998. A.G. Kaiser