Packing the Double-P... Friday, February 8

“You better pack your Double-P!” Snickers yelled out to me as I left the house this morning. 

The plan was to meet up with Atomic-B, grab a taxi and take her to see our new official boxing club building. When I met up with her at Coffee Bean, I told her that before we headed to the boxing club, I had to tell her something. 

“Don’t be alarmed but there may be a man sleeping there”, I told her. “But don’t worry”, I told myself, “I’m packing my Double-P”. 

By now, perhaps you’re thinking “What’s the Double-P”, fair enough, let me explain. To put it simply,  Double-P stands for “penis punch”, as in punching a guy where the sun don't shine.  The other day Snickers and I were watching UFC. He thought it’d be funny, like he always does, to bust out into a UFC move he saw on TV, leaving me sprawled out on the floor and tapping out. This time however, I had picked up a move of my own – a dirty move. I had seen one fighter punch the leg of his opponent so that’s what I tried to do but in doing so I accidentally punched Snickers in the “secret boy part”. He screamed out “nooooo penis punch!” and ever since then that’s been like a big joke between us. Mike Tyson bit his opponent's ear and I punched mine in the crotch, nice.  I made up the funny name for it too, of course because I’m all about the strange and deranged nicknames. 

So anyways… 

With my Double-P in my pocket, Atomic-B and I headed over to the club. I unlocked the lock, struggled with the over sized chain and walked right in. The place was as cold and as dark as the other days but this marked Atomic-B’s first time laying eyes on it so it was exciting to share it with her. I felt so proud of Snickers for finding it, such a diamond in the rough. 

I showed her most of the club but had left that one particular room for last – the room where I had spotted the homeless man’s bedding and clothes. As we approached the door, I looked back at her and she seemed unnerved. And with my nerves a bit on end and heart now beating faster, with much anticipation I opened the door. There before my eyes laid a full grown man, with his back to us and all curled up in his sleeping bag. Thank goodness he wasn’t facing us, I would have seriously freaked if I had seen his face and he popped his eyes open to look at me.

We quietly backed out of the doorway, closed the door and then I tried to show her the remaining space but I was a bit shaken up.  I’ve never run into a situation like this – I’m in an empty building with a homeless man that may or may not be mentally all there, I don’t know.  All I know is that he woke up to our voices and then he suddenly started to make a lot of noise, perhaps to scare us away.  Well, it worked.  Out the door we headed.  My fingers were so frozen so I stumbled with the massive chain and lock.  They shook because of the cold and because of my shot nerves.  I could envision him in my head, the homeless man, him running up to the big glass door and pounding on it, trying to scare me.  He never did run up to the doors like I saw him doing in my head but I him being there had scared me enough. 

When I returned home to Snickers he had a good long laugh over me.  He had an extra good long laugh at me too when later on in the day he stumbled across a letter I had spent time writing for the homeless man. 

TRANSLATION:

To the man who sleeps here,

I was here when you were sleeping.

I came here because I am starting my business here.

Next week the workers will clean this building so please take your things.

I am sorry to tell you to leave.

Please find another warm place to live.

Please take care of yourself and be happy.

-- Amy 

Snickers thinks it’s silly of me to be writing a letter to this man and teased me about my writing errors but I think it is kind of the compassionate thing to do.  I mean, the man doesn’t exactly have anything and then we’re going to throw his limited things out in the trash like they’re nothing?!  I don’t think so.  Sounds rather cold especially consider this marks the second time we’ve been here when he was.  The first time however, we didn’t know he was here.  He was hiding in a cupboard and apparently stayed there the whole time while we measured the place. 

Thoughts of this homeless man have really got to me.  I’m both nervous but overly curious about him.   

In addition to writing this letter to him, I thought about what to possibly give him.  I’ve seen what he has, well at least what’s been laying around my boxing club building.  Some suggested for me to get him a coat or new blanket but I’ve seen both his coat and sleeping bag so I know they’re thick and warm.  I was thinking of perhaps some food but I’m not sure what.  Perhaps I’ll make him something warm, like soap, and put it in one of my thermal containers this way sure he’ll have something to eat but the thermal will be good for him to keep other food in, particularly if he gets warm food or drink.  

Snickers teased me for the rest of the day, asking me "What about your Double-P, did you forget it at home?"  Nice, I go, run into the so-called "tenant" (aka the homeless man) and because I didn't face him I'm now deserving of being teased.  "I'm going to pull out my Double-P on you if you don't stop it!" I warned him.