Everyone else was engaged in conversation but him, so I figured why not? I plopped down on the bench next to him and immediately found that he was ver pleasant to talk to. I found out quickly that he wasn't technically homeless, and began to wonder why it was he came by every week for coffee and bagels. He was very childlike in the way he spoke. Not in his vocabulary or choice of language, but in the simplicity and unabashedness of his speech. He was completely unintimidating. Just like a child. I don't even think he noticed the fact that I was a female (often a conversation partner's keen awareness of this can be the cause of discomfort).
He wasn't a conversation hog either. The conversation felt perfectly balanced, and I never felt like I was zoning out and feigning interest.
He started telling me about some store where you can get really cheap second-hand movies and electronics. He was trying to help me out since, "like most college students, I assume you're in a financial strain." Then he started asking if my school gave transitional assistance: aid for graduating students looking for careers. He complained about how it's not fair that people go into college thinking they will have a career secured, and then they often "end up in very soup line you serve."
Then, interrupting his own speech, he siad "but that's not such a bad thing," pointing to the seemingly out-of-place christmas display accross the common. Inside a giant glass box atop a pedestal was an unusual nativity scene. "It's okay, because he came into this world homeless," Carl continued. "Our Lord and Saviour was a homeless man."
I smiled.
"Carl, what happened to Jesus?" I said, noting the fact that one thing was missing from this symbolic display, where Mary and Joseph stood looking blankly down at nothing but a tuft of artificial hay.
"Apparently, in recent years, Jesus has been a clepto-target."
Oh, that people would stop stealing Jesus out of Christmas!
[*Carl's name has been changed]
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