8 February 11 a.m. 2024

I’m sitting here at the office. Searching Craigslist for a Minivan. Nothing comes up. They got em for sale but I’m too lazy to drive to San Jose or Concord or Hayward or anywhere else in the East Bay. Why are all the cheap minivans for sale located in the East Bay? Cuz that’s where the people are. The East Bay is where you find the Teeming Masses. They have Teeming Masses in The City, too. But San Francisco is vertical. It’s hard to have Teeming Masses when everything is so up and down.

You know what I’m saying?

My buddy Martin got off on the description. The Teeming Masses. He told me once, he said, “I love it when they talk about the teeming masses of India. Or the teeming masses of China. When I was a kid I’d imagine the swarms of people, like ants.”

“Ants?”

“Or Locusts. You know. Swarming…”

“Yeah. I know.”

“So many people. It’s like they breed day and night.”

“Like Locusts.”

I wish Martin was still around. He died on his boat. He went to sleep one night like always and had a heart attack in his sleep. He was alone on his boat and the dock was pretty much deserted. Nobody around to notice him struggling. If he struggled.

No teeming masses, in any event.

Do I like people?

I don’t think I do. I mean, Teeming Masses aside, even small groups of people, gathering at dinner parties, sipping wine, browsing menus, tapping their glasses…I find them horrible. I hate them.

The younger and more beautiful they are the more I hate them.

Ad to their youth and beauty a list of accomplishments and professionalism and I despise them to the very depths of my being.

I used to be young and beautiful. Back then I enjoyed the company of young and beautiful people. I was stupid. I’m still stupid. But back then I was like really stupid. I’ve come a little ways since then.

I’m strolling down the alley

This morning. Early. I slipped off Scruffy and crossed the lawns, moved through the gate and along the dirt alley. I come out to the little street where Hailey parked her monster RV. She’s long gone.

I move around to the opposite side of the office building where the parking is covered by a broad overhang. I’m moving through the line of trees to the Post Office parking lot when I spot this dude, camped under the office building. He’s lacing his boots.

“How you doing?” I ask.

“I’m good. What time is it?”

“My phone has the time.” I sneak his picture while staring at the clock. “It’s seven thirty.”

“I’m not late.”

“You got somewhere you need to be?”

“No, it’s…”

“Oh, I get it. They’ll be here soon. The people rent the offices. What time they start showing up?”

“Nine.”

“Oh, you got time. Say! That’s a good spot you got there. I mean, it’s dry and kinda hidden I guess. Anybody bothering you?”

He’s staring at me.

“I’m not a cop if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m gonna be living in my minivan soon.” I tell him I’ll be parking around. I’m the Gloomer. “What’s your name?” I ask.

“Denny.”

“Nice to meet you Denny. Say! You need a sleeping bag? I got a sleeping bag you can have.”

“What kind is it?”

“It’s a thermal bag. A real nice one.” I’m describing the bag to him and while I’m describing it I’m thinking do I really want to give this dude my sleeping bag. “It’s yours,” I tell him. “You can have it. Free. No charge. I’ll bring it by. You gonna be here tonight.”

“I don’t know. You say it’s a thermal bag?”

“Oh yeah…It’ll keep you warm in the Artic. It’s good to like minus twenty degrees…”

“That may be too warm for me.”

“You know what? You’re right. How about some blankets?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Okay! You gonna be around this evening? I’ll stop by.”

I don’t shake his hand or anything because he’s busy lacing up his boots. Denny’s his name. I think I remember him telling me his name’s Denny.

The thing about it is, I don’t hate all people. Certain people I actually warm to. Like Denny. I mean, I’m not gonna loan him money. The sleeping bag I’ll give him because I don’t really need it. I’m pretty comfortable aboard Scruffy with two heaters blasting all night and I’m paying almost nothing for utilities. Good old Scruffy.

I’m gonna hate to see him go. The bird I won’t mind losing. But Scruffy, he’s got real character. Still, I don’t need a huge ass boat.

I could live in a tree no problem. A nice fat tree house with a stove and a feather bed.

Away from the Teeming Masses…

Or a minivan. I’m planning on living in a minivan…

I won’t be parking overnight at the office building.

I’ve got spots picked out where I won’t be hassled. Am I really gonna do this van life thing? Yeah, what the fuck! No bones in ice cream.

I gotta hand it to Denny. He found a good spot. A dry spot. But that blacktop’s gotta be a hard ass bed. I think his name’s Denny. Denny or Dan.

Was it Dan?

I can’t remember shit these days…