Melissa’s Problem

On Monday, I linked to a story I wrote for Article 25 called “The People on the Second Floor.” Part of the story was about Melissa, the daughter of the woman living right above me. After she, her mother and the people they were living with moved out—or were forced to move out—Melissa acted like she no longer knew who I was. Recently, that has changed.

Last week, I was heading into Walgreens to pick up a birthday card for my daughter. Passing the bus benches in front of the store, there was Melissa. If you’ll remember in the story, she makes her living on the street. Melissa is a prostitute.

All those weeks of pretending like she didn’t know me came to an end. Why, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I joined her on the bus bench.

I could tell she wasn’t herself. Melissa was talking a mile a minute jumping from one subject to another. I could tell she had a problem.

“I ain’t got no food, but I had enough money to get a pack of cigarettes,” she told me at one point. I was beginning to think Melissa was on something. It didn’t take long for her to confirm it.

Out of the blue, she said, “I’m addicted to crack cocaine. That’s my vice, gotta have it.”

She lit a cigarette and when she wasn’t jumping around to other topics, she told me more about it. She said she had to make $200 a day to support her habit. I think for Melissa, that’s a lot of men to be with in one day.

After spending a few minutes with her, Melissa jumped up to talk to another girl coming down the sidewalk. I suspect this girl is also a prostitute.

There’s not much I can do for Melissa except try and be her friend. She never asks a thing from me and I’m glad we’re talking again. The one thing I can do is listen.

I went into Walgreens to get that birthday card for my daughter. When looking through the cards, I thought of my daughter, then thought of Melissa.

Melissa’s mother lives with a black man, so that can’t be her father. I wonder where her father is and if he knows where his daughter is. Why has this happened to the both of them?

I know where my daughter is. While picking out that birthday card for her, I counted by blessings.

(Image from alcoholic.org)

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Seeing CityBeat

As most of you know, I had cataract surgery back in March and while I have promised I’m not going to overdo it with writing about it, I do want to share this.

Some days back, I had some business at CityBeat. I needed to pick up a book that I’m going to be writing about in the coming weeks. I live over in Covington, Kentucky and this was going to be my first bus ride over to Cincinnati since the surgery. I was excited about it.

Never take for granted the ability to see what bus you’re actually getting on. For months, I had to guess or ask people around me. On this afternoon, I could see the bus number just fine.

It was a pleasure getting off the bus and making my way to CityBeat’s world headquarters on Race Street. It was a sunny afternoon and I enjoyed walking past buildings I hadn’t really seen for a while.

When I got to CityBeat, I stopped and talked to Music Editor Mike Breen for a few minutes. Now it hasn’t really been that long since I’ve talked to Mike but this time I could actually see him. Before that, I could make out the outline of this face but that’s about all. This time, Mike’s actual face was back. Mike, damn you, you’re as good looking as ever.

I talked to Editor Danny Cross for a little bit who gave me the book. It was good to see him too.

And that book I need to write about? I can read it. It’s been a long time since I’ve read a book.

Seeing CityBeat was a lot of fun on that afternoon. I can’t wait to take another bus ride and go back there.

Alright, finished writing about my renewed eyesight. I promise I won’t write about it again. Keep in mind I’m probably lying.

(Image from CityBeat)

Dining Fine in Cincinnati

You know how the Business Courier is—them and their lists. Recently, they provided us with the best fine-dining restaurants in Cincinnati.

There are only five restaurants on the list. This is all based on something—“somethings” I don’t give a damn about. Lists, or at least this one, are based on personal opinion. They should call it a “Personal Opinion List of Fine-dining in Cincinnati.” Maybe that’s a little wordy.

I looked through the list simply to ensure that I haven’t been to any of them. Fine-dining to me usually means too expensive.

I was a bit shocked. Vitor’s in Cheviot made the short list. I’ve been there more than a few times and even wrote about it here back in May of 2009. This is a great place to eat—great food, great service, reasonable prices, etc. Hell, just read what I wrote three years ago.

So look at me! I’ve always suspected I knew all about fine-dining. It pleases me to have it confirmed.

(Image from restaurant.com)

Nothing to Move, Nothing to Give

I was going out, they were coming in. Both were carrying full plastic garbage bags. I asked them if they wanted me to prop the door open for them to move their furniture in. Carol said they had no furniture. Those bags – I’m guessing filled with clothes – were their only possessions.

To continue reading “The People on the Second Floor,” click here.

(Photo from Article 25)

Food Stamps and Food Prices at Walgreens

Whether they like it or not, the employees at the Walgreens on Madison Avenue in Covington, Kentucky have come to know me. Many people, friends and those who are not, sometimes accuse me of being a “character.” The employees at Walgreens probably feel that way too.

A clerk was restocking potato chips one afternoon. I happened to be walking by.

“Wow, almost four bucks for a bag of chips,” I said. “That’s quite a bargain.” The clerk just smiled at me.

Wanting to buy some instant oatmeal one day, I said to anyone listening around me, “You’ve got to be shitting me. Over five dollars for a box of oatmeal? You can go to Kroger and get it for under two dollars!”

I’ve shown the same outrage over the price of saltine crackers, raisins, bread, Ramen Noodle Soup and cans of tuna.

So often while waiting in line to pay for whatever I end up getting at Walgreens, I notice people paying for their food items with those food stamp cards. I don’t know what the official name is for these cards—most people I know simply call them food stamp cards—so I’ll call them that too. I have no problem with people using them—you do what you have to do—but I do have a problem with Walgreens ripping these people and the State of Kentucky off.

Suggestion to Walgreens. . . why don’t you give these people using these cards a discount and let them try and stretch their food dollars instead of  charging  your outrageous prices? Jesus Christ, aren’t you making enough money?

I wish I could stand outside Walgreens and give these people bus tokens. They could take that token, get on a bus and head up to Kroger and pay reasonable prices for food.

When I win the lottery, I’m gonna do this.

(Photo found on Google)

When In Doubt, Involve Funny Cats

I suspect—I know—there are more changes coming in my life this year and you know how I feel about change. I’m trying to change (there’s that word again) my views on this, trying to be more positive and today I’m upbeat about it. That could all reverse itself tomorrow.

One of the changes will be owning a cat again sometime this year. The last two I had lived to a ripe old age and I miss having one around.

So to put myself in the mood to getting a cat, I’m putting up a funny cat video. That’s what a lot of us bloggers do—when it doubt, involve funny cats. I’m not really in doubt as I want to do it.

(YouTube video)

Miley Cyrus is a Kid

The internet has been all abuzz about Miley Cyrus, or at least that’s what the “Gawker” blog is telling me.

She’s got a new movie coming out where she has a sex scene and she had a few things to say about sex on “The Conversation,” a talk show on the Lifetime Channel hosted by Demi Moore. I’ve never watched it and writing this post won’t change that.

If you’re interested in any of this, here’s what was said at Gawker.

I guess I am interested in it somewhat. No, Miley doesn’t make a lot of sense in the interview. Yes, she is a little all over the place and a bit rambling. Yes, she does come across as an airhead.

To all this stuff, I just want to say one thing. Miley Cyrus is 19 years old.  She’s a kid. How smart were you when you were that age? I wish she would know that the media is always looking for something to bring her down or to pick on. That’s their nature.

If Miley is taking advice and she’s probably not and certainly not from the likes of me, I would just tell her that sometimes saying less is better than saying more. I would also tell her to enjoy being a kid. She’s already growing up way too fast.

That’s all I got on Miley Cyrus. I could say more—but I’m saying less.

(Image from thechive.com)