usually meant scrapin up about a dollar. That don’t take long if you go to the part of downtown where the smart people work, the kind that wear a coat and tie. Some of them gentlemen’d give you a whole dollar right outta the gate if you just make like you hungry enough. Some of em’d give it to you quick, too, so you’d hurry up and get outta their face so they wouldn’t have to smell you too long. But other folks seemed like they really wanted to help—they’d look you in your eye and maybe even smile. I felt kinda bad hustlin a dollar off a person like that just so I could pull off the hamburger drop.
Anyhow, here’s how it worked. After I’d get my dollar for that day, I’d go on down to the McDonald’s and buy me a hamburger, take a coupla bites out of it, and wrap it back up. Then I’d pick me out one of them big, tall office buildins that’s got a trash can on the sidewalk out front. When nobody was lookin, I’d stick that wrapped-up burger down in the can and wait.
Soon as I saw somebody comin, I’d pretend like I was diggin in the trash. Then I’d come up with that hamburger and commence to eatin it. For sure somebody always gon’ stop and say, “Hey, don’t eat that!”—and they gon’ give you some money ’cause they think you eatin outta the garbage can. They feel real sorry for you, but they don’t know it’s your garbage that you done put in the can in the first place!
You can’t fool all the same people all the time, so you got to change locations. And you got to be on the lookout for folks you done fooled already and let em get on down the road ’fore you start hustlin some other fella.
At the end of the day, me and my partner’d put our hamburger-drop money together and go to some joint and eat us a decent meal. And if we done real good that day, we might have enough money left over for a half-pint a’ Jim Beam, what we called “antifreeze for the homeless.”
Next time you walkin around in Fort Worth and you see some homeless folks, you might notice that some of em’s filthy dirty and some of em ain’t. That’s ’cause some street people have done figured out ways to stay clean. Just ’cause you homeless don’t mean you got to live like a pig. Me and my partner kept on the same clothes all the time, just wore em till they wore out. But we figured out how to keep from smellin. That same fella that taught us the hamburger drop also taught us how we could get a good bath: at the Fort Worth Water Gardens.
The Water Gardens is a city park with a big ole fountain in it look kinda like a little stadium with walls made like steps or seats. The water flows down the sides of the fountain and makes a great big pool at the bottom, almost like a swimmin pool, ’cept it ain’t blue or nothin. There’s lots a’ trees all around it and back then, the workin folks would take their lunch and go down and sit in the shade around the edges, and listen to the water rush and sing.
There was lots of tourists, too, ’cause folks from outta town just loved to sit and watch that water dance down the walls. Me and my partner learned how to act like tourists. We’d wait till afternoon when there wadn’t too many folks around, and we’d walk up to the Water Gardens with our shirts unbuttoned halfway, and some soap and a towel in our pockets. Then, when the coast was mostly clear, one of us would act like the other one was pushin him in the water. Then the one in the water pulled the other one in, laughin and jokin like we was just friends horsin around on vacation.
We wadn’t supposed to be in that water, and we sure wadn’t supposed to take our clothes off. So we soaped up under the water where nobody could see, soapin our clothes and our socks just like you would your body. When we’d get through washin up and rinsin off, we’d climb up on a high wall that was part of the park and sleep till the sun baked us dry. We’d laugh and laugh while we was in that water, but it wadn’t no
Anyhow, here’s how it worked. After I’d get my dollar for that day, I’d go on down to the McDonald’s and buy me a hamburger, take a coupla bites out of it, and wrap it back up. Then I’d pick me out one of them big, tall office buildins that’s got a trash can on the sidewalk out front. When nobody was lookin, I’d stick that wrapped-up burger down in the can and wait.
Soon as I saw somebody comin, I’d pretend like I was diggin in the trash. Then I’d come up with that hamburger and commence to eatin it. For sure somebody always gon’ stop and say, “Hey, don’t eat that!”—and they gon’ give you some money ’cause they think you eatin outta the garbage can. They feel real sorry for you, but they don’t know it’s your garbage that you done put in the can in the first place!
You can’t fool all the same people all the time, so you got to change locations. And you got to be on the lookout for folks you done fooled already and let em get on down the road ’fore you start hustlin some other fella.
At the end of the day, me and my partner’d put our hamburger-drop money together and go to some joint and eat us a decent meal. And if we done real good that day, we might have enough money left over for a half-pint a’ Jim Beam, what we called “antifreeze for the homeless.”
Next time you walkin around in Fort Worth and you see some homeless folks, you might notice that some of em’s filthy dirty and some of em ain’t. That’s ’cause some street people have done figured out ways to stay clean. Just ’cause you homeless don’t mean you got to live like a pig. Me and my partner kept on the same clothes all the time, just wore em till they wore out. But we figured out how to keep from smellin. That same fella that taught us the hamburger drop also taught us how we could get a good bath: at the Fort Worth Water Gardens.
The Water Gardens is a city park with a big ole fountain in it look kinda like a little stadium with walls made like steps or seats. The water flows down the sides of the fountain and makes a great big pool at the bottom, almost like a swimmin pool, ’cept it ain’t blue or nothin. There’s lots a’ trees all around it and back then, the workin folks would take their lunch and go down and sit in the shade around the edges, and listen to the water rush and sing.
There was lots of tourists, too, ’cause folks from outta town just loved to sit and watch that water dance down the walls. Me and my partner learned how to act like tourists. We’d wait till afternoon when there wadn’t too many folks around, and we’d walk up to the Water Gardens with our shirts unbuttoned halfway, and some soap and a towel in our pockets. Then, when the coast was mostly clear, one of us would act like the other one was pushin him in the water. Then the one in the water pulled the other one in, laughin and jokin like we was just friends horsin around on vacation.
We wadn’t supposed to be in that water, and we sure wadn’t supposed to take our clothes off. So we soaped up under the water where nobody could see, soapin our clothes and our socks just like you would your body. When we’d get through washin up and rinsin off, we’d climb up on a high wall that was part of the park and sleep till the sun baked us dry. We’d laugh and laugh while we was in that water, but it wadn’t no
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