Let me tell you the little I know about Snake. He is wheelchair-bound and homeless. I don’t know the path he took that led him to this state. My first interaction with Snake was in the early hours of a summer morning- a Sunday, shortly after sunrise. I’d just had an interaction with a jerk that, in my current depressed state, left me sobbing uncontrolably right there on the Blvd of Broken Dreams! I heard a voice coming from a small alcove. It was Snake. I could not make out his words, but I assumed he was begging. “I don’t have any money!” I shouted through my tears.
“I don’t want any money, boss,” he said in a quiet, soothing voice. “I just wanted to let you know that things will get better.”
That’s the calibre of this man called Snake. The second time I met him was during another one of my early dawn walks (walking because your boy here has some problems with sleep). Anyway, I offered Snake a dollar and he said no. “I don’t want to take your money.” So if you see this man, know that he is a man of substance and character.