So I was sitting with A.J., one of my better friends last night at Carl's Jr (a popular fast food restaurant on the West Coast). We were chillin, sitting at our usual table by the back door, and in walks this drunk chick.
Now in that neighborhood, I just don't talk to people; in California especially, people don't talk to people, but I make it an extra point not to say a word to people there because, if you make any sort of contact with them, even eye contact, they will ask you for something. Everywhere in the trashier neighborhoods. That's why I don't carry cash; I don't want a guilt trip.
So in comes this drunk chick, who knew where she was and was able to walk a few miles without killing herself. Normally, I put my head down to avoid eye contact and started playing with the salt and pepper shakers when somebody like that comes in--my phone is way too risky, inevitably, somebody's going to ask to use it and the last time that happened, this dude was trying to outrun the Slovic Mafia...who afterwards walked up to me to see who he called. Bull$#!t.
Anyway, she walks to the bathroom door, then comes back out into the dining area and starts groaning extravertedly (she was welcoming a little attention). I gave her a sideways glance, and decided, she was pretty and probably wasn't going to ask me for money (but remember I said "something"...), so I stopped ducking down, but I still didn't say anything.
Then, A.J. speaks. A.J. defines himself as naturally an asshole (INTJ), so he's spent years training himself to be more social and less offensive to people. He has yet to obtain discernment, however, on how not to invite the attention of the dregs of society in his direction. The last person he greeted was a drunken Russian who barely spoke English, and the Russian had a nice monolouge (in Russian) for a good twenty minutes with A.J., his church's Youth Pastor, his church's Youth Pastor's wife, three of the youth, and another friend of ours. From what I understand, he was a happy drunk, and could've been the Russkie version of Santa Claus.
Anyway, so A.J. speaks, and asks her if she's alright, to which she responds:
"I've got to PEEE-eeee-eeee."
Way to go, dude. I shook my head, but I was smiling.
She continued: "I've got to Pee, and the door's locked, and I've walked like 3 miles and I've really got to Pee."
So she danced around a little, and continued dialouge along those lines.
I caught myself feeling sorry for her--a trap most of the time, because sympathy is the biggest weapon trashy people use to get what they want from you. Still. She was pretty. Drunk and stinky, yes, but some part of my black heart began to feel for her.
After the bathroom was free, she peed, came back out, and because A.J. and I said good-bye to her (I was sucked in at that point), she decided to sit down for a bit and tell us about her night. Her boyfriend was being an asshole and she stomped out of the party they were at--one of his friend's houses. Her purse was locked in his friend's car, and she didn't know if she'd be able to get it out again.
"He told me he loved me, you know? But now he keeps aksing me why I want to be his girlfriend? Wouldn't you chase you drunk girlfriend out onto the street if you loved her? I mean this is a strange neighborhood, I don't even live near here..."
A.J. and I took about two seconds to swallow our pride--hard to see either of us with a girl who drowns her sorrows like that in public constantly, but she'd already won us over. Both of us agreed that was jacked up.
Sympathy. Damn it. She's so nice too...
Eventually Suzanne decided she was going to head back outside. She thanked us for listening to her and being so nice. What, what is it you really want? I felt vulnerable now...I couldn't shut out the feelings.
And then she left. She didn't ask us for anything. She was totally cool and just left. You synical bastard, I thought to myself. Out loud, I chided A.J. for our pleasant encounter, because he's done that before with less comfortable results.
So A.J. gets up to get a soda. I'm playing with my phone. Then she comes back. She comes back in and asks me if she could use my phone. Dang it A.J.! I thought, but I just handed it to her smiling, because I really didn't mind if she used it. There were no mafia around as far as I could tell (they like the In & Out).
So she spills the rest of her life to us as she waits for her ride. She admitted to being an Alcoholic, cutting herself, and former drug addiction. I have yet to reign in Fe enough to understand when to switch from "fix it", to "caring mode". Maybe I am a synical bastard. I tried asking her some deeper questions about her alcoholism, but she deflected...it was hard for me to even ask, but I felt like maybe I can think of something she hadn't...hardly the case. We left, all on great terms when her ride arrived, taking her to another party.
My soul cried out Hosea 4:6- "My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge."
That superhero I keep buried in the back of my heart was pounding me. You want to save people, take them away from their burdens and help them to overcome, but I know that's foolish. I can't save anybody. I can love them though.
Maybe A.J. did the right thing, everytime. Maybe I'm the one who needs to realize that love is unconditional.
For those who believe in God, pray for me and cynacism. My dad is a cop, and he's taught our family to fear people. There has to be a balance between protecting yourself and loving on people.