Over the years, I have had many completely bizarre experiences with completely random people. These encounters have ranged from art critiques from homeless men to attempting to climb large scale bridges. Although these happenings were never planned in advance, they stemmed from a plan that was completely legitimate; the art critique happened while waiting for a ride from Union Station after returning from a portfolio review in Baltimore, the bridge climbing stemmed from a plan to walk around in Georgetown for a few hours.  

The art critique was at first disorienting but ended up being one of the most moving experiences of my life. As I exited the Amtrak train that had delivered me from Baltimore, I had the option to take the subway home or to get a ride directly from Union Station. I opted for the ride, the path I rarely take for fear of missing some preposterous activity or off-color experience. While sitting outside on a Jersey barrier, a homeless guy about 55 years old started to talk to me. I tried to just sort of phase him out, but when he saw my large portfolio envelope he asked me if I was an artist. I replied yes, expecting the man to attempt to strike up a conversation in order to get more money from me. He asked to look through the envelope and I figured, “What could it hurt?” so I let him. He admired my use of color on a self portrait, I thanked him and expectedly he asked me for some money. I said I had only two dollars, and I gave him one. We talked about homeless shelters and how they often do not meet the needs of the homeless.

After a few minutes of talking about the cracks in the system, he turned to me with a face as excited as a kid on Christmas and told me that a group had set him up with an apartment that he was to move into in May, six months away. The feeling that came over me when he shared this information was like nothing else I’ve ever felt. I don’t know if I was the first person that he had told or the one that cared the most, but it just felt like a reward for talking to him.

After another 10 minutes we shook hands because he needed to try to get more money for food that night. After I got home later that evening, I decided to go visit him the next chance I got. Later in the week, I went through the pantry and procured some foods that he could carry easily and that wouldn’t spoil. I packed the food in a paper bag, just like my mom used to pack me lunches but with different foods. I hoped he would enjoy the pineapple, granola bars, and soups with pop tops for easy opening at some point.

Days later when I got to Union Station, it took a while to locate him. I looked where I first met him out at the bus waiting area but didn’t find him. I looked in the park but didn’t find him there either. When I was on my way back to the subway, I found him standing by the cab line, getting cabs for people who were too lazy or too incompetent to hail their own. When he saw me at first he didn’t recognize me, but after I smiled at him and said “hi” he took a break from working the traffic. We talked for a bit about how the weather was getting colder and he was still looking forward to his new apartment. I asked him how he was otherwise and he showed off his new coat, boots, and gloves. The same look that he had when he told me about how he would get a place to live crept on his face after I offered him the bag. I wondered if I was the first person to offer him this sort of good will since he had been living on the street. Either way, I never expected to meet a random homeless guy who would briefly critique my portfolio and talk to me about housing for the homeless, just for choosing to get a ride instead of taking the subway.