Score Card

PRAYING for the day that I can get off these streets, dreaming of lying my head on a soft and fluffy pillow, with my body lying betwixt some good-smelling sheets. That's a dream that I would like to come true. I went past my spot and grabbed a bag of clean clothes so I can go past Miss Ida's house to see if she'll let me take care of my hygiene. "Hey, Logic. How is the best dressed homeless lady tonight"? questioned the young man. "Wonderful as always, young man," I replied. "Cmon Logic. Where do you live? You can't be homeless," the young man earnestly inquired. "Young man, in the wisdom of my years, would I make light of my pending circumstances"? I responded. I left him there pondering what I said and headed to Miss Ida's house. "Hey, babe, you just getting off work? the guy said. "Yeah, Skeeter, going to take care of my hygiene, a task you need to do, man," I suggested. "Now you know Logic; I ain't going nowhere. These streets got me, been out here too long. Not like you. No, you got smarts. You are only out here temporary. Babe, you got a couple of bucks"? Skeeter asked. Taking five dollars out of my pocket, I handed it to Skeeter, "And when I go, if you straighten up, I'll take you with me, later, man." I encouraged walking off. I needed to stop at the store to get a couple of things for my hygiene encounter. Before I went into the store, this young lady grabbed me by my arm, "Hey, Logic, can I talk to you for a minute" she begged. "Sweetpea, yes, give me a minute need to run into this store right quick," I answered. While in line, "Miss Logic, why do you talk to people like her"? the clerk asked, turning her nose up. "I use to think that a few years ago. That all homeless people were drug addicts, worthless people that don't pay their bills. But, I am she, and she is me. That is my outlook on it today. Thank you, sweety, you have a good night." I replied, leaving the store. "Sweetpea, you look a mess. You told me you were going to clean up with that money I gave you. Baby, I knew you were going to get high too, but you promised me you would tend to your hygiene," I scolded her. She went to give me an excuse, but I waved it off. I had a ten in my hand, "Sweetpea, I can't take you with me in this condition. I shouldn't give you this money either, because I'm scared the next time I see you may be in a box. I love you, boo. Gotta go." I said, handing her the money.

Headed towards my final destination, I see this little black book lying on the ground. Many people were looking at it, but no one was picking it up. I was thinking the same thing when something said, "Pick it up," I picked it up, and did a quick scan over it, then slide it down into my pocket. I arrived at my destination to complete my task of hygiene excellence. Being able to take this shower, wash my hair and brush my teeth in a sink that doesn't make me want to vomit is like a million dollars. It's a feeling you can't describe until you lack that ability. I finished my weekly conversation with Miss Ida about when I would get off these streets, also getting my delicious home-cooked meal, and preparing myself for my two long bus trips to my spot. While riding the bus, I look at the little black book. while examining it, I notice written with white paint were the words "Score Card." The first few pages were dates, hours of the day, and numbers in each time slot. Example:

January 3,

12:00 p.m 3:00 p.m 7:00 p.m.

782 4079 010

The book had several pages like that, followed by several pages, which looked to be instructions. The inscription started as such; "Do you believe in luck in winning money, or are you more prone to a systematic, logical approach to winning? That immediately caught my attention. I wanted to have more knowledge on this subject. I waited until I was at my spot before continuing to read on. I read that little black book cover to cover. The last words of this book were; "Remember, money is the root of all evil." I fell asleep with that book on my mind, along with all the equations and patterns of numbers. I thought about the book the entire day. I read it repeatedly every night at my spot.

One dark and rainy evening on my way to my spot, I stopped in the little store and tried out one of the black book equations. "Miss Logic, playing the numbers now? Good luck. Are you on your way home"? The store clerk inquired. "Yes, trying something different. No, not going home, but going to my spot." I answered. "Why you always call it your spot. Home is where you lie your head, right"? The clerk said. "No, young man. Home is a permanent dwelling. and where I am at this present time, I will never call it home because it will never be my permanent dwelling." I concluded. Walking to the bus stop, I saw one of my street brothers. I asked him if he has seen Tennessee Whiskey. I call him Tennessee Whiskey because he is just like the lyrics in the song. "You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey. You're as sweet as strawberry wine. You're as warm as a glass of brandy." This guy is the guru of a homeless gentleman. I've never seen anyone like him. He has a disability and a drinking problem, but he is the clique combination, tall, dark and handsome. When I get off these streets one day, he is one that I would genuinely take with me. Our relationship progressed at the first encounter. It was like we knew each other our entire lives. We thought alike, had the same sense of humor, liked the same genre of music. We had a lot in common. We were off to a beautiful friendship.

A long night, and I didn't make much money this evening. I wasn't able to get to the work-a-day van. I only made $30 tonight, so I'll get a bite to eat and go to my spot for the night. I got a submarine sandwich, a bag of chips and a Pepsi. I remembered the lottery ticket and pulled that out too. "Good evening, young man. How are you doing"? I asked. "Good and you"? The clerk replied. "A little tired tonight. grabbing a bite to eat and check this lottery ticket." I said. He took my ticket and put it through the machine. "Congratulation, Miss, you won $40.00. You want me to take the groceries out of this forty"? the clerk questioned. I was stunned. I just shook my head yes. The little black book was the first thing that popped into my head. Commencing on my journey to my desultory abode, I began pondering the little black book again. I have close to $100 in my pocket, enough for a room for the night. I began accessing what the little black book could do for me. I got so involved in my day-dreaming I almost missed my stop. Neon motel and hotel insignias began flashing in my head and before my eyes as I traveled on the bus.

I tried to unravel the book's equations; it was still greek to me. The book continuously explained how low winnings are a result of suboptimal equations. That was happening to me, small winnings, nothing substantial. I kept reading and studying this book, going over the numbers trying to find the answer. The book kept mentioning this one statement: "Trust the numbers. The numbers don't lie." I studied this book for so long one night that I couldn't get out of bed the next morning. I was pretty good on money that day where I didn't have to go out if I didn't want to, which was a pretty incredible feeling.

In just the last seven days, I accumulated $185 and didn't have to work for it. I could get used to that. The phrase "Trust the numbers, the numbers don't lie." kept ringing through my head. I took the book literally for its own words, and I trusted the numbers. I wrote the numbers down from in the book for tomorrow's date. Went to the 7'11 in the neighborhood and played those number exact for tomorrow. I came back to my spot and rested another day. I guess you could say I took a vacation.

The next day I went into the city to let everyone know that I'm still alive and well and check the lottery tickets. I ran into two of my buddies, Skeeter and Tennessee Whiskey. I spoke to Skeeter and got a good tight hug from Tennessee. "Damn, baby, you look good. If I had a little more money, you would be in trouble tonight." Whiskey said flirtingly. "Haha, be careful what you ask for; you just may get it." I returned the flirt. "You hear about Sweetpea"? Skeeter asked. Whiskey and I both shook our heads no. Singing like Eddie Murphy in the movie Life, he said, "She's in the upper room." It made me smile a little but also broke my heart. She was so young, just 20 years old. She didn't even get the chance to become a legal adult. I wiped my eyes, finished my silent prayer for Sweetpea, and went into the store. Getting a 2-liter Pepsi and a bag of chips, I got in line. "Good Evening, young man. How are you this evening"? I asked. "Miss Logic, I'm good. Will this be all tonight"? the clerk questioned. Then I passed him the lottery tickets. When he put the first ticket through, he smiled and looked up at me. He ran the second one and, his smile became more expansive. I could hardly wait for the last expression, and then, his eyes became as big as silver dollars. He came back to the counter and smiled at me, "Miss Logic, can I get these other people first, and then I will be back with you"? The clerk insisted. Looking at him a bit curious but then replied, "Yes." He cleared all the customers out of the store and asked Tennessee to watch the door for a minute. He came back to the counter and excitedly said, "Miss Logic, you have won $830. One ticket is $80, one ticket is $250, and the last ticket is $500. I'll be right back with your cash." I almost fainted. When he handed me that cash, the hotel sign flashed before my eyes. With the money I had at the spot, I had nearly $1000. I safely tucked the money away, thanked the clerk. I walked up to Tennessee and whispered in his ear. "Go get yourself a couple of changes of outfits and meet me back here in one hour." Smiled at him, patted him on the butt, and walked outside. I gave Skeeter $30, used Tennessee's phone, and called a taxi.

I went to my spot and packed up all my clean clothes, the little black book, and the rest of my money. I was packing quickly because the taxi was waiting for me with the meter running. We drove back in front of the store, but no Tennessee. Just as I told the cabbie to pull off, I hear, "Logic, Babe, I'm here." Tennessee said, winded, walking swiftly up to the taxi. "Babe, you were going to leave me"? He asked while getting into the cab. We were off to the hotel. We checked in for a week, costing @301.98 for seven days. A feeling of total euphoria came over me when I opened the door to the hotel room. Tears began streaming down my face, and I felt embedded in time. Tennessee knew how I was feeling; it was like we knew what each other were thinking. He spun me around and hugged me tightly, whispering in my ear, "I know, babe, it did feel great walking through that door. Thanks, babe, for bringing me. I feel honored." Tears were streaming down his face also.

I was lying back in a bathtub full of bubbles with my earbuds in my ears and old-school music playing. Utopia. We decided on pizza and hot wings for dinner, and the rest of the night was sheer bliss. Tennessee and I had the same idea when we woke up, to lie in bed and watch television. Both of us are lying there in a lollapalooza state, feeling like we're in another world. In my hypnotic state, the black book came to me again. I wanted to tell Tennesee about it, but something in me said to trust the numbers one more time to check the validity. Tennesse said he was going to the store. I wrote down the numbers from the book and asked him to play them for me. I took another bath because I could. I put on this nice lingerie set I had from a former life and relaxed the rest of the night.

The next day, we to walk to the store together to see if we were winners. Deja vu. $850.00, we both stood in utter shock. Great minds think alike. We headed back to the hotel, paid for another week's stay, and then went shopping. While at the hotel, I went to the room and retrieved the numbers from the black book. We went back to the hood to take care of our people out there. We even shared with some of the homeless that weren't in our hood. We went to Miss Ida's house to share some of the wealth. Miss Ida has been very good to me with my current living status, and she is Tennessee's mother. After the third win, Tennessee became curious. When we returned to the hotel room, Tennesee began to question how I keep winning the lottery. I showed him the little black book. Giving me an odd look Tennessee asked. "Babe, what is this"? "It's the source of these winning numbers. I was hoping that you would read it. Warning, you are going to read it more than once." I replied as I laid back on the bed and turned on the television. Several hours have passed, Tennessee is still reading the book. I rolled over In the middle of the night and noticed Tennessee pouring all his beer down the sink. I smiled and went back to sleep.

When I woke up that morning, Tennessee was dressed, sitting at the desk with the little black book. I began to sense this was a new beginning. Something that is going to be larger than ourselves. Something of great significance. We anticipated flying free from homelessness. We began trusting the numbers and began playing the numbers exactly how they were in the book. It was amusing as well as terrifying all at the same time. It was legitimate; it also seems criminal too. For the next six months, we played the number as indicated in the book. Every three days, we won $850. In that six months, the total winnings were $61,000. It's been a long time since I have seen that kind of money.

In the next six months, we have our very own organization (HHI), "Help for the Housing Impaired." HHI brought this old hotel building that had 600 rooms. We partition the courts and the city for permits and licenses to establish our organization and renovate the building. Tennesse and I got married and have a lavish apartment on top of the hotel. We moved Miss Ida to her apartment on our property. We continue to use the book to finance our organization. The Help for the Housing Impaired has a home for these homeless people out here. To be housed, you must contribute either financially or through services needed in maintaining the Housing Impaired Home.

We have a fully staffed kitchen which prepared three square meals a day for our tenants. We have a fully staffed housekeeping service, which keeps the rooms clean and with fresh linen, and the building clean. We have a landscaping crew to keep the ground clean. We have a maintenance department to keep the building functioning correctly. If you cannot contribute financially, you can work in one of the services to earn your keep. We provide transportation for employment and educational purposes. We have educational programs for helping with GED's, college courses, preparing for interviews, help with employment. We employed Skeeter with Help for the Housing Impaired, and he no longer drinks. He is our manager and does a great job. Tennessee has an excellent way of convincing people to help, and he helps obtain government grants and sponsors to help us keep going. Miss Ida is our Master Chef and CEO of the organization. They always say that you should always give back to the community, so we continue to trust the numbers.

Remember, money is the root of all evil, only if you attend to do evil with it.