Her sister brought in a newspaper, and we looked through the classifieds. Only one job looked very promising and all three of us went in to apply. It turned out to be the local Kirby dealer and we were hired on the spot. She went into training as a door knocker, and her sister and I went to be salespersons. I caught on very well, flew through training and was soon assigned to a team, going out and demonstrating to make sales. The first week alone I managed four sales, and made enough to move my girlfriend, her sister and myself into a motel room up the street from the office. I wore "The Hat" everyday to work.
Car problems and my girlfriend's mental condition forced us to quit and we had to move from the motel once again. This time we moved in with my girlfiend's loner hermit cousin. He did not like living with people and he and I did not get along well at all. New Years Day 2005 it all finally blew up. All the stress from the past year finally all came out at once when he tripped my fuse over something very small. I attacked him in his living room and beat him until the girls could pull me off. Needless to say he kicked me out, and my girlfriend decided to come with. The only thing I took was "The Hat".
The Salvation Army was full again, and did not expect a bed to be open until spring. No shelter in town was accepting new people. We had heard that the police station was allowing people to sleep in the lobby, but that too was misinformation. We were promptly chased back out on the street. We decided to head to the hospital, and check into the emergency room with made-up symptoms. The wait was long enough to allow us some rest in the waiting room, and after we were checked out we went back and napped in the waiting room until morning. Te next day I told her not to worry about me and to goback to awarm house where she was still welcome. After some pleading, she agreed and I headed out to local dumpster beind a restaurant. I found a few cardboard boxes and wooden crates with which to build a small makeshft shelter and settled in. I lived this way for 2 weeks digging in the dumpster for food, drinking from puddles, and smoking butts from ashtrays. My girlfriend visited on several occasions to ensure I was OK, and to let me know that there were still no leads on anywhere else to go.
She finally begged me to call my mom in Maryland and ask for help. I had called her before for advice, or when I had questions, but had never asked her for money or any financial support. I swallowed my pride and agreed. The plan was for me to preceed my girlfriend to MD, geta job, then send a bus ticket for her to come be with me. two ays latr I found myself on a Greyhound headed toward Maryland. Two days after arriving home I was informed via phone that my girlfriend was leaving for Oklahoma to be with another man. I was despondent, but relieved that I was in a safe warm house. I have been here in Maryland now since that January, with only a brief two month trip to Colorado to visit my sister.
I still have "The Hat". It hangs proudly beside my desk to remind me of everywhere we've been together through good times and bad, happiness and sorrow, pleasure and pain. It is faded now to a muddy brown color, the white parts are dark beige, the reds are almost pink. It has a tattered front edge of the bill. The velcro adjustment strap is curled in on itself. "The Hat" feels like it is made from a soft leather instead of the light denim type material it is made from.
It smells a little funny, yet the smells are those of my life and travels. A conglomeration of engine grease, mud, diesel fuel, cheap hooker and stripper perfume, sawdust, salt, sweat, and shampoo. It bears the marks of being run over, dropped, squashed, chewed, and beaten. It has been with me for seven years now, through a wife, three girlfriends, and 48 states. We've stood together on mountain peaks, and in the lowest valleys. We've climbed sheer cliffs together, and hiked miles of trails. We've hunted deer, and caught fish as a team. When I've had nothing else in this world, "The Hat" has always been there with me. If ever we've become seperated, we found a way back to each other. It's not just a hat. It's a symbol of my life.
When I do finally leave this world, I sincerely hope someone puts that old tattered hat on my head and reads these words I have written aloud.
