Last Night

Last night we met a man named Miguel. It was Friday night. Friday nights means Friday night walkabouts, where a few of us from Missio stroll the streets of downtown Salt Lake. Our purpose in walking is to be available. To talk to homeless folks, or lonely folks, or anyone who is interested. We like to think of it as carving out two hours a day to actually have time to talk, or buy a stranger a cup of coffee, or maybe get someone whose stranded a tank of gas. The wind was fierce, unflinching. On our way down Main Street we met a man named Miguel. He was probably late forties, wearing converses, with a salt and pepper beard and long, grey flowing hair. We stopped on the corner and I said hello. He nervously twitched. We asked him how he was doing. He whispered fine, and mumbled something and then asked if we had any weed. Or acid. I said, no, unfortunately. Not sure why I said unfortunately. We told him we would buy him a cup of coffee though and his eyes got real bright and he said, “Really?”

We walked to the Coffee Garden in Sam Wellers, and tried to get something out of the very broken, either mentally or drug impaired sentences that he spoke. On the way we met another man named Michael. He asked us for change and we said, sorry, we don’t give out money, but we’ll by you some coffee. He said, “Are you sure? You known I’m Indian right?” We slightly chuckled, and said we didn’t mind.

So the six of us drank coffee at Sam Wellers until they politely kicked us out because it was closing time and I think partly because Miguel had spilt half and half all over one of the tables.

We tried to connect with Miguel, but it was hard. We weren’t sure what was wrong with him and mourned the fact that we could not do anything to help his situation.

Michael was very friendly and easier to talk to. The whole interaction was very simple but it left me shaken because of something Miguel said. Through scattered bits of bible passages, incoherent questions, directions to the airport, and anxious shivering, he got real quiet all at once and said three times, “I could have done better.”
The first time slowly.
The next two times back to back, shaking his head.
“I could have done better, I could have done better.”