It was an eventful week at the Motel.
Some good - one of the guys had a turkey given to him, so CL cooked it up on Sunday and had a Thanksgiving dinner for "ten or so" who had no place to go.
Some not so good -
Every now and then the fire department conducts an inspection to make sure that the bare minimum safety standards are in place - that there's no way to flick a lit cigarette into the mattress filled swimming pool, that the feral cats aren't having kittens in the circuit boxes, that the fire extinguishers haven't been traded for smokes... that kind of thing. Just like at your house.
So last week at Dinner CL made an announcement that anyone who didn't have a smoke detector (a whole smoke detector) with batteries (working batteries) (plural) in their room should come and talk to her.
She had a clipboard with a list of room numbers and names and a column for signatures and one for check marks. She was filling it in as people talked to her, whether they had or needed something.
Anybody not at Dinner got a visit the next day and she and her assistant took a look, clipboard in hand, to make sure before the inspector came.
There were a few smoke detectors, complete with batteries, in dresser drawers. People keep taking them down. We're not sure why. Sometimes the batteries get used for other things. Sometimes things get sold.
These inspections are not popular, among management or residents. Management sees it as some kind of harassment despite the universality of the policy throughout the county. The residents tend to be very private people who don't cause trouble and expect to be left alone as a reward.
When it was almost time for the inspectors to arrive CL, one of the most private people, was in her room. There was a knock on her door. She opened it and there stood K, a local cop. Off duty, in civvies. She let herself in, uninvited (HUGE faux pas) and asked CL when the fire inspectors were expected.
CL got mad real quick, and bundled her back outside again to wait until the inspection team came. When they started at one end of the first row, knocking, showing their ID, checking for what they'd come to check for, K tagged along and went into each room. CL said she was "nosing around" for drugs and asking embarrassing questions.
Which is really surprising. You don't expect cops to be that clumsy. Not only does everybody there know this woman by sight, but once she'd been to the first room, the phone calls had started. "K's here and she's snooping in the rooms."
If anybody had anything they shouldn't, they wouldn't have by the time she got there.
Doesn't seem like the most effective search methodology. But what do I know.
Plus, around the same time, the child welfare folks came and took away another young one. From a single dad.
Those stories are so hard to hear. On one hand, you think that kids just shouldn't be living there. Period. Ever.
On the other hand, at least he's trying, ya know? It sucks.
Families are a rare commodity at the Motel. Folks just don't have them.
OK, I suppose technically out there somewhere there are adult kids and sisters and brothers. Step-families and cousins. But they're just not visible. People live independently, disconnected, self reliant because they've had to be or they're too stubborn to be anything else.
If you'd been there on Wednesday, you'd have seen 'the church' quite full, mostly of men. Only one of whom lives with a woman, one of whom lives with another guy. A few are dating, but the vast majority are single. Most divorced or estranged.
While we were tidying up after the room had cleared, one gent noticed the leftovers and was looking at them. We told him where to find a plastic container to take some home.
He lit up. "Yeah? Really? Boy, you know how much money this'll save me?" He gathered up enough turkey stew for a couple of meals and half a loaf of bread and packed it in a little box with a bit of dessert. "This is great. I'm a bachelor, you know."
Which is a huge factor for a lot of the guys. "I'm a bachelor" = I never learned to cook.
Really basic stuff - "Directions: Microwave until hot" - they can do, but if they could just learn how to use a crock pot it would make a big difference.
Which is probably why we get more and more men coming to Dinner who don't live at the Motel. It's a hot meal, homecooked, served by and eaten with ladies who are glad to see you. Nice.
CL made a freudian slip last night when she commented on how many people we get "from out of town". I thought that was awesome. The Motel is her town.
She really loves the place and she's worried. Occupancy is down and she's not sure why. But with fewer rents being collected, it's harder to pay the electric and water bills. She figures that more people will move in now that the weather's getting sharply colder, but she knows that those people will use more power and water and increase the bills that their rent is supposed to help pay. And if there's not enough money now...
So she's worried.
Me too. The "end of November" rumours persist. We've heard them first and second hand - from the manager and from people he's told.
And last week, after CL made her announcement about smoke detectors, the manager made a point of letting a few of us know that he was off to give a tour to a potential buyer. "Did you see those black fellas out there? Well they're waiting for me. I'm supposed to show them around."
Yeah. Great. Thanks. You go do that. Don't trip over any feral cats.
r
Some good - one of the guys had a turkey given to him, so CL cooked it up on Sunday and had a Thanksgiving dinner for "ten or so" who had no place to go.
Some not so good -
Every now and then the fire department conducts an inspection to make sure that the bare minimum safety standards are in place - that there's no way to flick a lit cigarette into the mattress filled swimming pool, that the feral cats aren't having kittens in the circuit boxes, that the fire extinguishers haven't been traded for smokes... that kind of thing. Just like at your house.
So last week at Dinner CL made an announcement that anyone who didn't have a smoke detector (a whole smoke detector) with batteries (working batteries) (plural) in their room should come and talk to her.
She had a clipboard with a list of room numbers and names and a column for signatures and one for check marks. She was filling it in as people talked to her, whether they had or needed something.
Anybody not at Dinner got a visit the next day and she and her assistant took a look, clipboard in hand, to make sure before the inspector came.
There were a few smoke detectors, complete with batteries, in dresser drawers. People keep taking them down. We're not sure why. Sometimes the batteries get used for other things. Sometimes things get sold.
These inspections are not popular, among management or residents. Management sees it as some kind of harassment despite the universality of the policy throughout the county. The residents tend to be very private people who don't cause trouble and expect to be left alone as a reward.
When it was almost time for the inspectors to arrive CL, one of the most private people, was in her room. There was a knock on her door. She opened it and there stood K, a local cop. Off duty, in civvies. She let herself in, uninvited (HUGE faux pas) and asked CL when the fire inspectors were expected.
CL got mad real quick, and bundled her back outside again to wait until the inspection team came. When they started at one end of the first row, knocking, showing their ID, checking for what they'd come to check for, K tagged along and went into each room. CL said she was "nosing around" for drugs and asking embarrassing questions.
Which is really surprising. You don't expect cops to be that clumsy. Not only does everybody there know this woman by sight, but once she'd been to the first room, the phone calls had started. "K's here and she's snooping in the rooms."
If anybody had anything they shouldn't, they wouldn't have by the time she got there.
Doesn't seem like the most effective search methodology. But what do I know.
Plus, around the same time, the child welfare folks came and took away another young one. From a single dad.
Those stories are so hard to hear. On one hand, you think that kids just shouldn't be living there. Period. Ever.
On the other hand, at least he's trying, ya know? It sucks.
Families are a rare commodity at the Motel. Folks just don't have them.
OK, I suppose technically out there somewhere there are adult kids and sisters and brothers. Step-families and cousins. But they're just not visible. People live independently, disconnected, self reliant because they've had to be or they're too stubborn to be anything else.
If you'd been there on Wednesday, you'd have seen 'the church' quite full, mostly of men. Only one of whom lives with a woman, one of whom lives with another guy. A few are dating, but the vast majority are single. Most divorced or estranged.
While we were tidying up after the room had cleared, one gent noticed the leftovers and was looking at them. We told him where to find a plastic container to take some home.
He lit up. "Yeah? Really? Boy, you know how much money this'll save me?" He gathered up enough turkey stew for a couple of meals and half a loaf of bread and packed it in a little box with a bit of dessert. "This is great. I'm a bachelor, you know."
Which is a huge factor for a lot of the guys. "I'm a bachelor" = I never learned to cook.
Really basic stuff - "Directions: Microwave until hot" - they can do, but if they could just learn how to use a crock pot it would make a big difference.
Which is probably why we get more and more men coming to Dinner who don't live at the Motel. It's a hot meal, homecooked, served by and eaten with ladies who are glad to see you. Nice.
CL made a freudian slip last night when she commented on how many people we get "from out of town". I thought that was awesome. The Motel is her town.
She really loves the place and she's worried. Occupancy is down and she's not sure why. But with fewer rents being collected, it's harder to pay the electric and water bills. She figures that more people will move in now that the weather's getting sharply colder, but she knows that those people will use more power and water and increase the bills that their rent is supposed to help pay. And if there's not enough money now...
So she's worried.
Me too. The "end of November" rumours persist. We've heard them first and second hand - from the manager and from people he's told.
And last week, after CL made her announcement about smoke detectors, the manager made a point of letting a few of us know that he was off to give a tour to a potential buyer. "Did you see those black fellas out there? Well they're waiting for me. I'm supposed to show them around."
Yeah. Great. Thanks. You go do that. Don't trip over any feral cats.
r
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