Where to go and what to do?

Where do you go when you have nowhere to go?

This isn’t some sort of riddle, it's a genuine question I have. When you can’t be at home, due to travel, construction or, of course, being homeless; what is the appropriate measure for an introvert such as myself? I could spend all day in a cafe, writing ceaselessly as is so appropriate in movies and television, but realistically how much-unlimited coffee can I drink before someone making minimum wage is forced to evict me from the premise?

So necessity once again becomes the mother of necessity. And what is necessary for me to enjoy my time is three things. 1. Shade, 2. Back support 3. A table or table adjacent (what to put all my shit on.)

Parks are deceptive, they’re places your local government wants you to visit but not live in; leaving many benches privy to anti-homeless measures. For- example, the bench I’m at right now appears excellent. It has an umbrella for shade and a fine flat surface for me to use as a table; however, the seat is fixed too high, so I have to crane my neck down to look at what I’m doing. And the seats, although they appear spacious, have an angled bar in the middle that prevents lounging. It’s ok for a few minutes, but with a lack of a backrest, it quickly becomes a painful endeavour.

It really is a shame that we’re so focused on making public places uncomfortable to those less fortunate members of the public. We know how to make chairs, obviously, a carpenter that exclusively makes uncomfortable furniture shouldn’t have a market - and yet here we are.

Even lying down in public areas seems to invite unwanted attention; I myself have mistaken several layabouts as potential corpses and people assume the worst of people relaxing without paying for it. I’ve seen many homeless evicted from parking lots and stairways for the crime of having found a place to sit.No businesses, no parks; you could ride the bus, but that's its own kettle of worms.

Public transit in London is always a strange ride: there’s no telling what you’ll get. Someone with a snake and a chainsaw? Of course, dirty-handed nurses eating burnt pizza? yup. Is a man in a balaclava yelling “Cunt” over and over again? Call and response.

Not everyone appreciates this of course; some bus drivers, understandably, are extremely tired of the homeless in London. The first time I didn’t even notice, I looked up from my phone to see a man standing in the rain, pounding the bus door and yelling. Honestly, I was surprised, although he certainly looked homeless he was carrying a pair of expensive monitors, still in the box. I felt bad for him, even if he had stolen the monitors they would have fed him for weeks. But the bus pulled away, he flipped off the driver and then spat at the bus. It struck the window nearest to me, and a pale brown mucus dripped inches from my face.

I collected myself, afterall I still had things to do. However, when the bus drew to my stop the door to let me out wouldn’t open.

The bus hissed, we were about to depart, I called up to the driver. Upon doing so I noticed something strange, there was yet another homeless man attempting to board the bus; he rattled the doors and hurled insults at the driver.

“I got my transfer right here!” he made a great show of it, running his hands through his many jacket pockets.

I smiled, knowing that I had placed the driver in an awkward position. The longer this door took to open, the longer he would have to stay at the stop; staring face-to-face with the man he was denying entry. Of course, I didn’t know if this was profiling or not; after all the man clearly did not have a transfer and planned to storm to the back of the bus. All I knew is when the door finally screeched open I was sad; I had to watch this homeless man come to terms with his predicament, for a few more hours in the hot sun.

With another hurled slur the bus was off, as I meekly teetered past the man; a transfer I had taken for politeness sake burning a hole in my pocket.

Of course, the answer is simple, making this entire point far more worthless than at first appearance. The answer is also redundant, and unhelpful, as is most common; just purchase the solution. Easy for me with my meagre surplus of income just buys a fold-out table, chair and umbrella. Like I said, a truely boring and frankly prattled solution... to something that isn’t really even a problem to me.