The weekend stranger
You are asked to accommodate a homeless stranger for a weekend to house, feed and entertain. Would you do it, and if so, what does your weekend look like and why?
I live in a small village in the South of Ireland in a community of several hundred. The Irish are always very welcoming and look after people if they fall on hard times. One such faller on hard times was homeless Jimmy. Jimmy used to be the town bank manager and he came from a very well to do family. But after his wife left him for an Italian stallion named Antonio. It was rumoured Antonio didn't have a willy, a willy had an Antonio. With his wife gone for the larger phallus, Jimmy took to the bottle , lost his job and got his house taken off him. Jimmy went downhill fast and it wasn't long before he was sleeping on park benches with a bottle of Hennessy his only comfort. He became the villages first homeless person so the village committee had a meeting about him. We liked Jimmy. He gave the village bank loans way more than he should be giving out. One guy asked for a car loan and went to the world cup. He was given the name Uncle Jimmy in the bank so whenever anyone needed a loan they would go down and visit Uncle Jimmy. So it was time to give back. 52 families came together to offer Jimmy a place to stay at the weekends. It is our turn this week.
While discussing with the other families, they came to a conclusion that there was no saving Jimmy. He quite liked the homeless life. No matter how many families tried to change him, he would still revert to type. They would find him lying on the floor in the bedroom rather than the bed. If they asked him to stop drinking he would have a bottle of brandy squirreled away somewhere else. He was even put on Tinder to try and find him a new woman but the dates went south when instead of going to the toilet, he stood up, did a poo there and then, shook the leg of his trousers so it popped out on the ground. This did not endear him to the opposite sex although it intrigued us how he kept his trousers so clean. So by experience it was just best to go with the flow and let Jimmy live his life. It started to become a trend in most families that the wife would end up telling the husband to just keep him away from the house. Something the husbands relished and looked forward.
"He cut out the carpet in the spare bedroom and set fire to it" said the wife of one of the other families.
"I don't care where you bring him or where you go, just don't bring him back here. He's not gonna mess with my new carpets"
This was music to every mans ears around the village. A weekend of debauchery with homeless Jimmy would be just what the doctor ordered. So I ordered a camper van and we headed off to Donegal to the Rory Gallagher Festival on the June Bank Holiday weekend. Myself and homeless Jimmy were into our music and what better way to spend the weekend supping beers outdoors and listening to music.
The first ordeal happened when loading the camper van. Jimmy tried to bring his friend Missus Penney Tuppence along for the ride. Literally. Missus Penny Tuppence was the provinces prostitute and she thought a trip to the Rory Gallagher festival would also prove to be a lucrative venture. Missus Penny Tuppence had apparently already paid homeless Jimmy for the ride or as I found out it was the other way around. In order to get rid of "Tupps", I had to pay her the going rate for an hour which was €30. She was pushing 50 now so her rates were forced to decrease which was mainly how her nickname came about. With Tuppance paid off we could finally get going.
I kept a bucket between the legs of homeless Jimmy in case any Malteesers were to descend down his leg. I also put the Hennesy into an Iron Bru bottle in case we got stopped by the police for having alcohol in the car. Jimmy had polished 4 Iron Bru bottles by the time we hit Donegal and he was singing his usual repertoire that he sings in the park. Hounddog by Elvis.
When we got there things looked pretty good as the whole festival looked like a town full of homeless Jimmys. It was a Rory Gallagher festival after all so everyone had long hair, check shirts and old trousers. However it was still only 10am and there was no pubs open. Jimmy went over to a couple of down and out gentlemen and spoke "homeless" to them. A strange dialect consisting of cigarette exchanges and whispers with erratic shouts and arm waving in between. I thought there was going to be a punch up at one stage but they he hugged them. He came back and told me to follow him.
We went down an alley and he stopped at a window. He gave a weird knock at a window, Knockity Knock knockity knock. The window opened. Jimmy asked me for €20. I gave it to him. He gave the €20 to a hand that had appeared from behind a curtain in the window. The hand disappeared with the money and reappeared with 12 cans of Linden Village cider. The window closed and we walked away opening our cans. Homeless Jimmy shook his trousers leg and left two knobbles of poo behind him which acted like a mark of ones territory. The ways of the homeless was intriguing to me.
From there on we sat on a footpath and watched some of the street performers play music. Homeless Jimmy was a kind soul and handed some of our cans to the other down and outs that had given him the tip off. Well I should say he gave the cans that I purchased but I suppose he was under my care for the weekend so it was like bringing the child to the cinema but with hard liquor.
After the three plastic bottles of Hennessy, the 6 cans, homeless Jimmy started to get a bit loose and began dancing erratically around the street. Not a care in the world. I had a few in me myself at that stage so I joined in. Day drinking has always interested me. Being drunk at 12pm is a unique experience that last happened to me in my university years. But it is like looking at the world in a different way. Everyone looks so serious rushing from place to place where you are in a bubble of happiness and giddiness looking at these people thinking "I would never like to be them" even though I am those people 365 days of the year for the last decade. With a wife and two kids, one cannot start buying and consuming alcohol at 10am from a hand in a window.
Jimmy looked as free as a bird and his dancing resembled something from Woodstock 1969. Some youths joined him in his free spirit dancing and then the other homeless joined in. It was like one big dance orgy.
The off license started opening at this stage. Homeless Jimmy disappeared and came back with a shopping trolley. If there is anything a homeless person can acquire in record time, it is a shopping trolley. They can just sniff them out like drugs and alcohol. "Fill it up" said Jimmy pointing at the off license. So off I went and purchased another 2 slabs of alcohol. The trolley was a godsend and we could put all our belongings in there with the booze so we didn't have to carry them around all day. Homeless Jimmy became very protective of this trolley and kept it in his peripheral vision wherever we went. By 7pm Jimmy was out for the count and set up camp beside our camper van as he deemed the bed in the van too soft. I was happy about that and had the van to myself.
When I awoke on the Sunday I heard rumbling outside the van. I opened the door and Jimmy was there with Missus Penny Tuppence. How did you get here???? I scramed here like you would a crow from a refuse sack. . Again she demanded €30 from me for more services provided to homeless Jimmy.
"Fucking hell Jimmy. You have a better sex life than myself and I don't shit myself" I said even though I would shudder the thought of having relations with the notorious "Tupps" who had no teeth at this stage. "You should try her" said Jimmy. The gumminess adds to her demand"
Opportunity knocked for Tupps who quickly gave me her price list but I politely declined.
With homeless Jimmy's needs sorted we went on the beer again for the day. We did the usual before hand of drinks from the magic window and dancing freely like hippies at the festival. I was really getting into this homeless vibe and the street life. We adopted a dog at this stage who looked a bit scruffy so we called him Johnny. Homeless Jimmy gave Johnny a couple of chicken wings. Again I never knew where Jimmy kept producing them. The end of the day we had a fight with another gaggle of homeless around our trolley and it ended with me pushing Homeless Jimmy down the hill in it to get away from them. This led to a trip to the hospital after the trolley toppled over making Jimmy split his lip and in need of treatment. We had to say goodbye to Johnny the dog as he wasn't allowed in. The next morning the hangover kicked in but thankfully it was time to go home. Tuppance made her way into our camper van so I just gave up and decided to give her a lift back to the village. It looked like she was all blowjobbed out. It was a long weekend and I was glad it was going to be a year before I had to do it again.
"Who do you have next week Jimmy?"
"Bill the Butcher" replied Homeless Jimmy.
"He is bringing me to a whiskey festival in County Kildare"
"That's nice Jimmy."
"It is nice, Bill will bring food."
"Overall I would give you a 5.5 out of ten this weekend."
"That's nice Jimmy, I thought you would have been happy with booze and prostitution and music."
"No the quickest way to a mans heart is through his stomach so a 5.5 is a fair score."
Tupps agreed in the back of the camper van while she had her hand down Jimmy's pants.
"Why are you agreeing Tupps??
"I gave you 60 quid so far and a lift home!!!!"
"Both of yee can get out of the van right now please."
" Ye can walk back to the village ye ungrateful pair of degenerates. Enjoy your whiskey festival with Bill the Butcher and I'm not paying for that handjob Jimmy! Now fuck off."
I was at least an 8.8.
I looked in the rear view mirror leaving the two of them behind. Tupps still with her hand down Jimmys trousers. He did his textbook trousers pull for one last time. It was a couple of hours walk but they should be fine. They are Bill the Butchers problem now.
This is a song about Homeless Jimmy and Missus Penney Tuppence.
Source
So there you have it. A weekend with a homeless stranger. Never a dull moment but I'm opting out of the village committee for next year.
