I was bummin’ the street in New Orleans, ‘n I see this fella dressed ta the nines, ‘n he’s got himself a girl, a blonde on each arm. So I walk up ta ‘im ‘n hit ‘im up fer change. I was all covered with dirt, jus’ got off a train ‘n was fixin’ to git me some work on the shrimp boats. So I tell the guy my bedroll ‘n gear was took by a couple jackrollers. ‘N he sez, “Well, from the looks a ya, that sounds like the truth, but people don’t like to hear the truth. Tell me a better story,” he sez, “’n lie a little.” The guy put me on the spot. Him ‘n the two women was standin’ there waitin’ fer an answer, so I sez, “Well, to tell ya the truth, I’m a professional jet pilot, ‘n I ran outta aviation fuel, ‘n had ta make an emergency landin’ in New Orleans.” I sez, “I’m in kind of a hurry to git back to the plane,‘n I need some money to git me more jet fuel.”  He ‘n the women ‘bout split a gut laughin’ ‘n he gimme ten dollars. Always bum a guy got a girl with him. He don’t wanna look cheap, so chances are ye’ll git somethin’.

‘Nother time I put the bum on a fella fer some money ta buy shoes. He sez, “What’s the matter with the ones ya got there on yer feet?” ‘N I sez, “I jumped in a boxcar in Del Rio, ‘n it didn’t have no floor, so I had ta run ‘long inside till it stopped in San Antone’.” I told ‘him ever’thing went ‘long fine, ‘cept my shoes wore out jus’ ten miles b’fore the San Antone’ yard limit.

Groc’ry store parkin’ lots; them er good fer bummin’. There’s always people comin’ outta the store with a little bit a change in their pockets. Ya git throwed outta them places pretty quick if ya ain’t careful. Them managers, they don’t like ya comin’ ‘roun’. One time I was bummin’ the parkin’ lot a this Safeway, ‘n the manager comes out ‘n chases me off. Little while later on I come back ‘n start bummin’ again, ‘n he ‘n ‘nother guy come outta the store ‘n threw a bucket a water on me. They run me off again, ‘n I went ‘n sat in this vacant lot. I was sittin’ there, soakin’ wet, ‘n I got ta thinkin’, ‘n I figgered fuck ‘em, I’m hungry. So I went on back ta the store. This time I went inside ‘n went straight over ta the milk ‘n grabbed me a quart, ‘n then I got some cheese ‘n some crackers off the shelves, ‘n sat down in the middle a the aisle ‘n started feastin’ on the stuff. I had that quart a milk open, ‘n them cheese ‘n crackers was spread out in front a me on the floor. People was standin’ ‘roun’ gawkin’, but I didn’t pay ‘em no mind. I jus’ set there eatin’. Wasn’t long b’fore the cops come. The cop, he comes over ta where I was sittin’ ‘n puts the han’cuffs on me.  He sez, “Don’t ya know that’s again’ the law?” I sez, “’Course I do. I didn’t fall outta the sky awhile ago.” He sez, “Whatta ya doin’ then?” I sez, “I’m survivin’. I’m hungry.”

He took me over ta detox, but I wasn’t drunk so they let me go. That detox ain’t too bad a deal though. I don’t drink; ye’ll ever catch me drunk, but if I need to git inside somewheres, ‘n sombody’s got a jug a wine, I might take a swig, swish it roun’ in my mouth ‘n pour a little on my coat so’s it smells like I been drinkin’ ‘n go over ta detox ‘n spend the night. It ain’t a bad way to git yerself inside fer the night if yer in a place got jackrollers creepin’ ‘roun’.

Sometimes I’ll put the bum on a guy to git ‘im thinkin’ I ain’t got nothin’, so’s he thinks I aint’ got a cent on me. Like if I’m sittin’ in the yards ‘n a couple tramps come by, I’ll say, “Hey fellas, got a cigarette on yas?” I might have a pack a tailor-mades in my pocket, but I’ll ask ‘em anaways, jus’ to set ‘em thinkin’ I got nothin’ worth takin’. ‘N if they has the idea a jackrollin’ me, they might think, hell, why bother with this guy; he ain’t even got himself any tabacca.

106.