Fresh Wes

My roommate and I are in our apartment drinking rum and cokes when we get a knock on the door. We open the door and see a man with grimy dreadlocks, a long nappy beard, and shabby clothes. “Hey you mind if I use your phone?” he says. Being the idealist that I am, I immediately say, “yea come on in, you want a beer?” Now the perfect outcome of this awkward situation I had created was for him to call the owner of whatever shelter he was able to scrounge up for the night, maybe have one beer, and then leave. It’s this type of naïve thinking that leads to bad situations.

Scott makes the call and does not get an answer. Then he makes himself at home on our couch and says those nine magic words: “you guys mind if I take my shirt off.” We both said ‘sure’ in the most insincere fashion. Due to the booze in our system and the overall absurdity of the situation, we were far too confused to utter the words ‘no Scott, you can’t take your fucking shirt off.’

He proceeds to peel off his disgusting hoodie, allowing his putrid body odor to immediately consume our apartment. It’s amazing how much of his stench was previously shielded from us by his hoodie. Perhaps it was made of lead, because his foul armpits were emitting some pretty raunchy rays.

My roommate, desperate to break the creepy silence, asked him if he could have a pinch of his chew. “Sure, I also have some homemade chew if you want.” My eyes lit up. Homemade chew? What does that even mean? I had to see it. He pulled out a baggy filled with some sort of substance that I couldn’t recognize. I smelled it and I can only describe the smell as some sort of fishy oil. I found out from some local who knew him (I know, our mutual acquaintance was a homeless person) that the secret ingredient in his homemade chew was nothing other than PCP.

Scott starts telling us about himself and how he used to work at Wal-Mart but quit because they “only paid him $8 an hour.” Let that sentence sink into your head for a second. A homeless person is trying to convince us he was overqualified and underpaid…for a job…that pays money…which he has none of. If this seems backward to you, don’t worry, you aren’t alone.

.It is now becoming quite apparent that the “friend” Scott came over here to call is probably nonexistent. As all three of being to realize this fact, Scott says, “you guys mind if I crash here?” Most of you think you would immediately say no and try to kick him out. But this guy was so pathetic that we couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. However, there was no way in hell he was going to be staying with us that night…or ever.

My roommate quickly says that my sister is coming within the hour and she didn’t want any of my friends to be staying there. It was a terrible lie that really made no sense, but luckily Scott was so brain-dead from all the substances his body has incurred over his “life” that he bought into it. Then he smiled at me, with his Indian corn teeth, and asked me how old my sister was. Yea Scott, you’re just her type. And don’t ask how old she is as if any number I throw out there is really going to sway your decision one way or the other.

So I go onto the computer to avoid having to talk to Scott as well as to find refuge from the Agent Orange that was steaming off his filthy, shirtless torso. I IM one of my friends and telling him to call my roommate to save him from Scott. It doesn’t matter what you say, just make that phone ring.

The phone rings, my roommate puts on a Oscar winning performance pretending to be talking to my sister. This ruse back up our lie, and Scott gets up to leave. He asks to use the phone one more time. This time the person who we thought was fictional picked up and said Scott could come over and crash both agreed on what we should do with this treasure. We placed it on top of our TV like the prize that it was, and every time we watched TV and looked up at it we would remember that fateful day a smelly bum showed up at our apartment door.

“If the misery of the poor be caused not by the laws of nature, but by our institutions, great is our sin.” - Charles Darwin