excerpt from "Strange People:stories by Dave Whittman"

I noticed over by Lassalle St. and Wacker their tearing up the Wacker drive area which that area is right near where they used to be these large hot air outlets where you’d have anywhere from twenty to fifty guys laying out in big lines right near the hot air vents. It was like a scene out of gone with the wind if you remember that scene where Scarlet O’Hara is tramping through all the wounded war veterans. Except most of these guys are black but it was very interesting and you usually, when it would be cold you know, very few people would steal anything cause you know you’d have to take your hands out of your pockets or out of your sleeping bag to do anything so it was pretty well safe. Of course there were a few crazy psychos that were very messy and got into peoples business and broke car windows and they of course ruined it for everybody. You know things are pretty bad for you when all you have is a whole in the ground and then you get kicked out of it.

I suppose being without an actual residence, being an Urban Nomad, is an excellent preliminary to being dead because people don’t notice you you’re generally ignored I suppose the same way it goes being...

and that way when you finally kick the bucket at least you don’t have to look for a place to pee, you don’t get hungry, and no one will ask you for a cigarette.