I don’t go stayin’ in missions ‘n Sallys the way some guys do. Once in a while mebbe, but I ain’t no mission stiff. Might be times I’ll stop in ‘n clean up, get a shower ‘n shave ‘n a meal ‘n be gone’s quick as I can. Jus’ don’t go for ‘em. They got these rules ‘bout what time ya do this ‘n the other ‘n, I dunno, I’d rather be sleepin’ out if it’s warm. Now, some a them places ain’t half bad.  Oroville, there’s a good mission for ya;  bes’ food outta any of ‘em. ‘N Spookaloo, there they got a deal where they locks up yer gear for ya. Got a room they keeped locked. Can’t no one get in. Thing is fulla nothin’ but gear; bedrolls, packs, suitcases, sacks, all got a tag on ‘em sayin’ who it b’longs to. That way a guy can’t go sayin’ somethin’s his if it ain’t. They gives ya a ticket, ‘n when ya wants yer stuff back, all ya gotta do is hand it to ‘em. Let’s ya go out ‘n leave yer gear b’hind ‘thout havin’ to worry ‘bout someone lammin’ off with it.

They goes by the rule book, the Bible. ‘N that’s one book’s got more rules ‘n comman’ments ‘n anathing, I ‘spect.  I figger I picked up enough r’ligion from them ear beatin’s to last me the rest a my life. Ya gotta keep it on the straight ‘n narra’ ‘roun’ them places. Ain’t a one of ‘em ‘llows liquor. Ya can’t go checkin’ in if they see yer drunk. Ya gotta least look halfway sober er they’ll send ya over to detox.

Few years back I worked for a Sally. Trucker helper, go ‘roun’ in them trucks pickin’ up stuff ‘n loadin’ it. Ya get a roof over yer head ‘n three square ‘n mebbe five bucks a week for tabacca. It ain’t bad if ya wanna get in outta the cold er somethin’. Mos’ them places gives ya one free night a month if ya ain’t on one a them work programs. One night ‘n that’s it; yer back on the street. If it’s cold, some of ‘em’ll let ya sleep on the floor a few nights. There’s places, couldn’t ‘xactly call ‘em missions, they got a deal where they stays open all night; like Talbots, down in Lakeland. Guys can get outta the cold ‘n drink coffee. Don’t ‘llow no sleepin’, can’t go stretchin’ out on the floor. Ya gotta be either standin’ er sittin’ up. Guys go in ‘n just sit by theirselves mos’ the night, sittin’ up at these long tables tryin’ to keep half-assed awake, some of ‘em leanin’ against each other to keep from fallin’ over.

Gets crowded in them places: missions, Sally’s. Guys sleepin’ like a bunch a sardines, ‘n boun’ to be some of ‘em goin’ through the D.T.’s. Yer sleepin’ in a room with twenty, thirty guys, ‘n they’ll be four, five goin’ through it, hollerin’ all night long, havin’ nightmares, n’ seein’ things, thrashin’ ‘roun’ in their beds.  Keep ya up half the night.

There in Alabama, I think it was Birmin’ham, I checked into a Sally, ‘n the sleepin’ room was all bunk beds. Get more guys to a room that way. Had me a top bunk. The middle a the night I wake up, ‘n there’s this young black fella pinnin’ me down ‘n tellin’ me to take it easy. He’d been sleepin’ the next bunk over. I sez, “What the hell you doin’?” He sez, “Man, you was hollerin’ ‘n kickin’ like a wild man. Thought you was gonna fall off the bunk.” I tol’ him, “In that case I s’pose I oughta thank ya.” It’s  why I like sleepin’ on the ground; ain’t nowhere to fall.

140.