Homeless Men Like to Chat with Me

Hi there.

I am in sunny West Palm Beach, checking my e-mail at the library. I do miss the cloudless clear blue skies of Florida. This library is amazing! I am looking out at the blue lake, with waving palm tress. This view beats a poke in the eye.

Am bonding with my "peeps" from The Palm Beach Post and Sun-Sentinel. Yes, sometimes I do miss reporting. And sometimes I don't. If I were reporting, I wouldn't have time - any time at all - to sit in a quiet library and look out the window.

So after lunch with my friend John P. I went into the Starbucks to get my decaf grande with room and to read the paper. A homeless man tried to chat me up. Well, he was a homeless man who could afford an iced latte and was taking a looooong time to drink it. So he tries to chat me up. "What is your name? How are you?"

"Man, I am just trying to read the paper," I say.

"Well, can I have the sports section then?" he asked.

I give it to him. He reads it. Then puts it down and talks to himself. A lot. The whole time I read the paper. So why did he need to talk to me when he was already having a conversation?