Last week, I dropped by St. Simon’s shelter and spent some time talking to some of the guys who bunk there. Why?

Because I’m them.

And so are you.

Also because there are so very many different kinds of homelessness: you fall down, hurt your head and lose your wits; or, you get kicked out of your house and have nowhere to go; or, you lose your job, then your savings, then your life; or, you try to ease your pain and you wind up with an addiction; or, you flee your small town if you’re gay, and you come here with no money and no support; or, mental illness intervenes; or, you get thrown off your reserve and have nowhere to go but the big city; or, you do something stupid and it all goes wrong.

There are plenty of other reasons.

I’m afraid of drink.

Last week I told you how crowded things were in the shelter system; what does that mean now for the men who have no homes?

Reggie said, “In the summer, some guys sleep outside, in the valley or on a bench.” He is 62 years old. Sleeping on a bench? The thought makes my bones hurt.

We were talking under the trees behind the shelter; muggy, hot, sweaty, hard to breathe. Reggie said, “This place is one of the best, but there are times when guys show up and there are no beds. And if you do get in, then you’d better behave.”

Or be shown the door.

Reggie’s story — and it is his story — is that he had a job, and he inherited a small pot of money so he decided to take some time off; not long after he quit, he got bilked and couldn’t pay his rent, and then he had a breakdown.

He landed at Satan House — Seaton House, to you — but then he got lucky, because they steered him towards St. Simon’s.

Now he is a regular. He knows that he has to show up on time to get a bed. He’s hoping Ontario Works can help him get a bachelor apartment, one he can afford. His preference? “Some place where I can watch what I want on TV, for however long I’ve got left.”

A finely-calibrated hope.

Justin is 43. How long has he been homeless? “Too long.” He meant four years. “A relationship crashed; the world imploded. I’m still homeless because of all the baggage from my childhood.”

He was abused. He’s dealing with it. But you get the sense it isn’t easy.

Bill is 67. I’m a year older. He’s been homeless for six years. He said, “I got a notice to move. I found a place and had a verbal agreement, but it wasn’t there when I needed it. I ended up sleeping by the bank machines.”

Indoors, at least.

Mike is 56. He’s been homeless for five years. Why? He said, without inflection, “Drugs.” He didn’t elaborate. I didn’t push. It happens.

If the shelter system is bursting at the seams, what does that mean if you’re lucky enough to get a bed somewhere? Justin said, “You keep your ducks in a row.” Bill elaborated: “You obey the rules — you make your bed, you keep your area clean, you don’t cause trouble.” And then he grinned. I know that grin. It means here comes a story.

“I was having a smoke with this girl. We met for coffee. We exchanged numbers.” So, all was going swimmingly?

“And then I said to her, ‘Look, I live in a shelter. I’m unemployed. I’m sorry.’ She said, “You cheating bastard. You’re like all the others.’”

He laughed. “Who’d admit to living in a shelter as an excuse?” The others laughed, too.

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Other problems?

Mike said, “There are people in the shelters who have mental health issues; they need help. It gets to be a problem if they mix in, and we don’t know they have a problem.” Thing is, there isn’t much help.

Bill said, “No privacy, that’s the thing.”

They all say they need housing. Mike wants a job; he values the sense of community he gets from volunteering.

Advice for new guys?

Eric joined us then. He said, “Don’t go to the police.” I promise that I would not. And then he startled me. “Starbucks is the most helpful.”

Starbucks? “You need water, you don’t need money. They’ve helped us. They’ll give sandwiches, salads and packaged foods if they’re getting close to the expiry date.”

What about the national coffee shop, home of the hosers? “At Tim’s you have to know the manager.”

Best advice of all?

Justin: “You’ve got to get where they have the answers.” How do you do that?

Bill: “Just look around, and follow the others; they’ll tell you what to do.” That is the solidarity of the street.

They all say what everyone says: that we need proper housing. Trouble is, not only do we lack a housing policy, but we’re taking beds out of the shelter system, which means more people competing for fewer places to stay.

Drive a guy to drink.