last night i thought would be just an ordinary night.

as the washington weather kept on being bipolar, we got heavy snow through the night, cleared up as i got to work, during my break there was an uncontrollable amount of hailing.... it was like a shower of mini mini marbles.. then it changed to sprinkles of mini mini marbles... then back to a hard shower of marbles... by the time i got off, the ground was heavily frosted with tiny tiny marbles stuck to one another.. you know like when you lick an iced metal pole? horrible.

however, i still planned to go out.. fully dressed, made it to my friends house warming, saw a lot of familiar faces from the bar, it was a great explicit night ;] things you'd only see in a gay home. my room mate opened a bear that had the strong unbearable scent of marijuana. i laughed to myself and took a sip although bear really ain't my thang.. i just had to have some alcohol. i met an adorable boy who was just about as tatted up as i was; held a great conversation with him about when, where and how much each other got every single one for.

as we were leaving my groupie and i had already decided on honey court in chinatown. half way after we were served our food, i decided to go smoke a cig, you know.. rest a bit, come back and finish grubbing whatever i had left..as i was smoking a bum came up.. he didnt ask for money, nor did he ask for a cigarette; he asked for my left overs. i felt my stomach--felt pretty damn full, i promised him my left overs, and he smiled, replied back to me, i'll just be right here, right here waiting for you.

i looked at all the left overs; told my friends that im giving my food to him, because i know if i take it home that i will probably not eat it the next day, or the next day after that.. so i rather him have it. in agreement, they too decided to give him their food. we boxed all of our left overs, grabbed four or five forks and placed them in the bag. i walked out and i didnt see him at first; but he was peeping from behind the corner.. i raised the left overs signaling to him, here you go. he ran over said thank you about 5 times; a smile with sad eyes. pulling out another cigarette; i looked back at him and he waved.

a smile i'll never forever, sad eyes i'll never forget, a face i'll never forget. i dont feel obligated to go feed him everyday. but i sure as hell will be thinking of him every time i go in that area to eat; and every time i have left overs, i'll be looking for him. one day, instead of giving him semi-warm left overs, i'll take him in the restaurant with me, and let him choose a dish. i wish i'd ask him for his name.

this isnt something i feel accomplished or great about. just something that i'll always remember.