The Night I Brought Home A Homeless Stranger.... (1 Viewer)

DoctorZ

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The Night I Brought Home A Homeless Stranger
(A Squat The Planet Exclusive Adventure!)

I had just started my Sunday night shift as a city bus driver in St. Paul, MN. It was a cold January night in the New Year 2020 with some snow flurries falling. The night was a little busier than usual since the next day was Martin Luther King Day, a federal holiday. When I arrived at the end of the line, a lady who had gotten on with the first group of passengers was still on the bus. I asked her if she was going back the other direction and she nodded yes. When she was still on the bus at my second terminal, I knew I had a “Street Person” riding around trying to stay warm.

It has been my policy for the majority of my 32-year career to allow these people to ride around as long as they don’t cause any trouble or become disruptive. In the last few years my employer, Metro Transit, has also adopted this policy at the Operator’s discretion. Usually these riders sleep for a few hours then exit the bus quietly. This particular lady however, stayed on for my entire shift.

At the end of my shift, I woke her up and informed her that it was my last trip and she’d have to decide where she wanted to depart because she would have over a mile walk back downtown if she rode to the bus garage. She acknowledged, “Okay.”

When I arrived at the garage she was still on the bus. I told her she’d have to exit or I’d have to call the cops. She then asked me if I’d take her to a homeless shelter. I explained to her that the only shelter I knew of, Dorothy Day Center, had been torn down a couple years prior. She appeared desperate and with the outside temperature hovering around zero degrees Fahrenheit I told her I’d take her back downtown in my car.

After driving around the former location of the old Dorothy Day Center and not finding anything open at 12:30am, this person started asking if she could just spend the night at my home. I told her that I lived 40-miles away from St. Paul in the middle of nowhere. She would essentially be a prisoner on my wooded 5-acre hobby farm ½ mile down a dirt road in the country.

After a short pause she explained that she had only been in St. Paul for two days and didn’t know anyone. She had spent the previous night sleeping on the Light-Rail Transit Train, and earlier in the day she had been robbed at gunpoint! She then introduced herself as “Natasha” and said I seemed like a “nice person” and she’d take her chances spending the night at my home. I told her I’d have to call my wife and let her know what was going on. I was hoping my wife would give me an excuse to get myself out of the situation.

My phone call woke my wife up and she got online and started looking for 24-hour crisis shelters—none of which were nearby. Being as it was so cold, the hour of the day, and the fact it was starting to snow harder, I had little incentive to be hopeful one would be open and have space. My wife then surprised me saying it was probably the right thing to do to provide assistance in this case.

As I headed out of the city towards home Natasha told me she had “stomach problems” and needed to drink a lot of fluids to avoid getting very ill. I asked if I should take her to the hospital and she refused saying she just needed something to drink. I stopped at a gas station where she purchased several quart bottles of Gatorade. While she was inside the thought crossed my mind that this was my last chance to bail on the situation—throw her stuff out into the parking lot and drive off--as many guys had done back in the day if they met a girl they didn’t like off the Jam Line. (Jam Line was a telephone social dating/networking tool we all used back in the 1960’s and 1970’s.) Anyways, I’m not that mean so I waited for her. When she came back out she claimed to have thrown up a couple of times in the bathroom and apologized for the delay it had caused.

She wasn’t much for conversation, but when we passed a sign that said Duluth 123 Miles, she asked if there was any way I could take her to Superior, WI? She said that’s where she was from and that she had come down to the Twin Cities because she hoped things would be “better” for her. She had family that didn’t get along with her, and she hated her “Worker.” However getting robbed had traumatized her and she wanted to go back home now.

I wondered aloud why she didn’t go further south to a warmer climate, and she said she couldn’t afford to travel that far. I then suggested she hop a freight train and she responded that she was “too old” to do that. I also asked if she had considered hitch-hiking and she didn’t respond to the question. She dodged the topic by repeating her request to be taken up to Superior, WI, and she’d get some money together to cover gas.

I asked her if she could drive, and she said she had a driver’s license, but no vehicle. She said she was unable to find work because she was disabled. She also informed me she had her Panhandler’s License, which made me suspect she had been over to Minneapolis, since that’s the only city I know of around that required one.

For the most part she stayed bundled up in her jacket which was quite filthy and looked like she had been on the streets for several days or more. Her skin didn’t look very good, and she was shivering all the way back to my house even though I blasted my car heater on full until it was about 90° in my car.

As we were nearing my home Natasha commented on how beautiful the scenery was. I told her she should see it during the summer time! When we arrived at my house she asked if I had a spare bed, and I took her downstairs to our guest bedroom. Before going to bed she proceeded to throw up again in the bathroom, then without even taking her jacket off, she dove onto the bed and covered up. I asked her if I could get anything for her and she asked for more blankets. I then shut off the light, closed the door, and went upstairs.

My wife’s Fibromyalgia must have been acting up because she had fallen asleep on the couch—our bed has become too hard for her. My kids were asleep in their bedroom, so I headed to bed myself. After getting ready for bed and lying down, I found I was all wound up and thoughts started flooding my mind.

I had this stranger in my house that I had NEVER seen before and the ONLY thing I knew about her was she said her name was Natasha. She rarely had made eye contact when talking to me and she hid herself inside her clothes. She had a small pack with her, but I never asked what she was carrying. I started worrying about the $250 cameras I had on the ledge in the room she was sleeping in, how all our Income Tax returns were in the room’s file cabinet, and the fact that a computer was in that room with full Internet access. I tried to take an inventory of all possible valuables in my mind that were stored on my lower level.

At this point I became angry with myself for being so materialistic. I told myself that if I had no possessions of value, I would be much more accommodating to helping the less fortunate. I came to the realization that it is why the rich are so cold to the world’s problems. They are attached to their belongings instead of what counts—people in need.

I finally fell into a restless sleep only to be awakened about an hour later by the sound of the downstairs bathroom fan going. Usually guests don’t bother using the fan, so this told me she must be smoking in the downstairs bathroom. My new paranoia was she might fall asleep in bed with a smoldering cigarette and burn my house down.

After falling back to sleep for a couple more hours I was awakened by a bad dream of my wife’s vehicle being stolen. I dreamed I was helplessly watching as Natasha drove off down my driveway on her way to Duluth, after finding the keys on the table or something. I got spooked later the next day when my wife told me she had the exact same dream of her vehicle being taken by our unexpected house guest.

My two kids (ages 11 & 13) had no idea someone else was in the house. They were both awake and playing videogames in the living room when I got up the next morning. When I introduced them to Natasha, they just glared at me like I was crazy and refused to talk to her. They told me later they had been awakened that night by strange noises in the house and one of them swears he saw a Xenomorph wandering around the house during the night. (For those of you who don’t know, a Xenomorph is the monster from the 1979 Sci-fi Horror movie: Alien.)

Did Natasha wander around my house while we all slept? I have no idea. My wife had awakened for a bit and tried to find someone to give Natasha a ride to Duluth, but her friends all said, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it.”

When I woke Natasha up the next morning to get ready to go, she was still in her winter jacket and the room was littered like a homeless camp with Kleenex and empty soda bottles all over the place. The bed had what appeared to be dirt and rust chips all over the sheets, and my basement smelled like cigarette smoke. Before coming up stairs Natasha threw up again. I asked her if she felt any better and she said, “A little bit” then thanked me for allowing her to spend the night.

Before leaving my wife offered to fix her breakfast, she refused any food, but asked for soda and money. I offered her $2 for bus fare and she seemed appreciative for it, then took several cans of diet coke. I also had printed out several brochures of crisis shelters with maps addresses and phone numbers off the Internet of the Twin Cities area.

On the way back into the Cities, I asked Natasha what her long term goals were. She said, “getting her kids away from her husband.” I asked her kid’s ages and she said, 6 & 4, and then she went silent, closed her eyes and pretended to sleep the rest of the way into town. She totally ignored me for the whole 40-minute trip. Her last words to me as I dropped her off at the bus stop were, “How long before the bus comes?”

I saw Natasha one more time that day waiting for our Light-Rail Train towards Minneapolis. She didn’t seem to be trying to locate any of the crisis centers I had provided information to. This was confirmed when I got back home from work. All the literature I had printed out was left on our kitchen table. I was a little bit annoyed by this.

So you’re probably wondering would I do this again? My answer: It depends on the circumstances….

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nivoldoog

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I have been that person a few times. New Years with a stranger at his house after he helped me figure out the cheapest way to send the majority of my stuff to my mothers after my sister attacked me on Christmas. The bartender from the local VFW put me in her basement when I got super sick. The guy I got a hitch from who was going to Texas to pick up growing equipment. This random old hippy lady that just really liked the look of my eyes. There was once or twice I was either obnoxious (dirty up a house quick) or the host turned weird on me. Nearly 90% of all my travels and being hosted worked well.

Now, I have also been you and currently kinda going through it now.I get a apartment after being on the streets for years then seems like all my friends end up homeless. So i am trying to help friends get by till they can figure out what they need to do. Ended up losing the friends and the apartment. Currently letting this prostitute chick store some gear at my house since I know how important it is to have a safe place to store cloths while streeting it. She is a lovely soul and mostly only mildly crazy. She is pushing it but she has not really done anything to piss me off or make me uncomfortable. She brings beer and weed sometimes so I guess its working out.

I am already warning her that when spring starts to come I am gonna pack up my bag and go for a long walk and she will need her stuff gone by then. She asked for a key. "Not just naw, HELL NAW!" This upset her but she accepted it quickly I think. She runs all these guys around town but she not running over me. I am celibate and a prostitute cant use sex to manipulate me.
 

DoctorZ

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I have been that person a few times. New Years with a stranger at his house after he helped me figure out the cheapest way to send the majority of my stuff to my mothers after my sister attacked me on Christmas. The bartender from the local VFW put me in her basement when I got super sick. The guy I got a hitch from who was going to Texas to pick up growing equipment. This random old hippy lady that just really liked the look of my eyes. There was once or twice I was either obnoxious (dirty up a house quick) or the host turned weird on me. Nearly 90% of all my travels and being hosted worked well.

Now, I have also been you and currently kinda going through it now.I get a apartment after being on the streets for years then seems like all my friends end up homeless. So i am trying to help friends get by till they can figure out what they need to do. Ended up losing the friends and the apartment. Currently letting this prostitute chick store some gear at my house since I know how important it is to have a safe place to store cloths while streeting it. She is a lovely soul and mostly only mildly crazy. She is pushing it but she has not really done anything to piss me off or make me uncomfortable. She brings beer and weed sometimes so I guess its working out.

I am already warning her that when spring starts to come I am gonna pack up my bag and go for a long walk and she will need her stuff gone by then. She asked for a key. "Not just naw, HELL NAW!" This upset her but she accepted it quickly I think. She runs all these guys around town but she not running over me. I am celibate and a prostitute cant use sex to manipulate me.

I guess it gets easier after you've done it a few times. This was my first time with a perfect stranger. I mean there were plenty of times in my younger days finding places to stay for teenage runaways, but back then it was never my place (I lived with my parents) and the teenage girls were so cute I was always hopeful something would become of it after awhile.

Never did get a girlfriend that way, and the worse thing that ever happened was my buddy (who lived on his own) left a wad of money out on his dresser and went to work with the girl alone in his house. Needless to say, the money hit the road with the runaway. As a condition for letter her stay there I had to promise to cover any losses he incurred. That was a painful blow to my wallet on a Fast Food salary.
 

nivoldoog

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It sounds like you lucked up for most part. But not all of them, us, me are always that good. With kids and a wife and everything you should be very careful but dont close the heart either.
 
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Good story and thanks for sharing!

Reminds me back in summer of 1995, my then girlfriend and myself in Colorado Springs, CO took in a homeless lady for the night. We knew her a couple of days before. So one night we took her in.

The next morning she was gone and we found stuff missing in the bathroom! (toilet paper, my GF's cosmetics, toothpaste, shampoo, a washcloth and a towel, I think there were other items but can't remember, so long ago).

Myself and my then GF looked around downtown Springs and the Marion House soup kitchen but never saw her again. We figured she skipped town or shacked up with someone else.

Never again I'd take someone in unless it's someone I know real good.
 

DoctorZ

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Good story and thanks for sharing!

Reminds me back in summer of 1995, my then girlfriend and myself in Colorado Springs, CO took in a homeless lady for the night. We knew her a couple of days before. So one night we took her in.

The next morning she was gone and we found stuff missing in the bathroom! (toilet paper, my GF's cosmetics, toothpaste, shampoo, a washcloth and a towel, I think there were other items but can't remember, so long ago).

Myself and my then GF looked around downtown Springs and the Marion House soup kitchen but never saw her again. We figured she skipped town or shacked up with someone else.

Never again I'd take someone in unless it's someone I know real good.

That was my first time taking in a total stranger, but I did NOT invite her. If she had left there is no where to go out here. No public transportation, no trains, no businesses, and no one willing to pick up a hitch-hiker. There are a few cops and a few Meth-houses, but I don't know how willing the Meth-houses would be to a stranger. We have had people hiding on our property from the cops when Meth-houses get busted. There's also a lot of hunters around so during the day you can hear occasional gun shots. It's legal to target practice, etc. around here.
 

lazerskull

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The Night I Brought Home A Homeless Stranger
(A Squat The Planet Exclusive Adventure!)

I had just started my Sunday night shift as a city bus driver in St. Paul, MN. It was a cold January night in the New Year 2020 with some snow flurries falling. The night was a little busier than usual since the next day was Martin Luther King Day, a federal holiday. When I arrived at the end of the line, a lady who had gotten on with the first group of passengers was still on the bus. I asked her if she was going back the other direction and she nodded yes. When she was still on the bus at my second terminal, I knew I had a “Street Person” riding around trying to stay warm.

It has been my policy for the majority of my 32-year career to allow these people to ride around as long as they don’t cause any trouble or become disruptive. In the last few years my employer, Metro Transit, has also adopted this policy at the Operator’s discretion. Usually these riders sleep for a few hours then exit the bus quietly. This particular lady however, stayed on for my entire shift.

At the end of my shift, I woke her up and informed her that it was my last trip and she’d have to decide where she wanted to depart because she would have over a mile walk back downtown if she rode to the bus garage. She acknowledged, “Okay.”

When I arrived at the garage she was still on the bus. I told her she’d have to exit or I’d have to call the cops. She then asked me if I’d take her to a homeless shelter. I explained to her that the only shelter I knew of, Dorothy Day Center, had been torn down a couple years prior. She appeared desperate and with the outside temperature hovering around zero degrees Fahrenheit I told her I’d take her back downtown in my car.

After driving around the former location of the old Dorothy Day Center and not finding anything open at 12:30am, this person started asking if she could just spend the night at my home. I told her that I lived 40-miles away from St. Paul in the middle of nowhere. She would essentially be a prisoner on my wooded 5-acre hobby farm ½ mile down a dirt road in the country.

After a short pause she explained that she had only been in St. Paul for two days and didn’t know anyone. She had spent the previous night sleeping on the Light-Rail Transit Train, and earlier in the day she had been robbed at gunpoint! She then introduced herself as “Natasha” and said I seemed like a “nice person” and she’d take her chances spending the night at my home. I told her I’d have to call my wife and let her know what was going on. I was hoping my wife would give me an excuse to get myself out of the situation.

My phone call woke my wife up and she got online and started looking for 24-hour crisis shelters—none of which were nearby. Being as it was so cold, the hour of the day, and the fact it was starting to snow harder, I had little incentive to be hopeful one would be open and have space. My wife then surprised me saying it was probably the right thing to do to provide assistance in this case.

As I headed out of the city towards home Natasha told me she had “stomach problems” and needed to drink a lot of fluids to avoid getting very ill. I asked if I should take her to the hospital and she refused saying she just needed something to drink. I stopped at a gas station where she purchased several quart bottles of Gatorade. While she was inside the thought crossed my mind that this was my last chance to bail on the situation—throw her stuff out into the parking lot and drive off--as many guys had done back in the day if they met a girl they didn’t like off the Jam Line. (Jam Line was a telephone social dating/networking tool we all used back in the 1960’s and 1970’s.) Anyways, I’m not that mean so I waited for her. When she came back out she claimed to have thrown up a couple of times in the bathroom and apologized for the delay it had caused.

She wasn’t much for conversation, but when we passed a sign that said Duluth 123 Miles, she asked if there was any way I could take her to Superior, WI? She said that’s where she was from and that she had come down to the Twin Cities because she hoped things would be “better” for her. She had family that didn’t get along with her, and she hated her “Worker.” However getting robbed had traumatized her and she wanted to go back home now.

I wondered aloud why she didn’t go further south to a warmer climate, and she said she couldn’t afford to travel that far. I then suggested she hop a freight train and she responded that she was “too old” to do that. I also asked if she had considered hitch-hiking and she didn’t respond to the question. She dodged the topic by repeating her request to be taken up to Superior, WI, and she’d get some money together to cover gas.

I asked her if she could drive, and she said she had a driver’s license, but no vehicle. She said she was unable to find work because she was disabled. She also informed me she had her Panhandler’s License, which made me suspect she had been over to Minneapolis, since that’s the only city I know of around that required one.

For the most part she stayed bundled up in her jacket which was quite filthy and looked like she had been on the streets for several days or more. Her skin didn’t look very good, and she was shivering all the way back to my house even though I blasted my car heater on full until it was about 90° in my car.

As we were nearing my home Natasha commented on how beautiful the scenery was. I told her she should see it during the summer time! When we arrived at my house she asked if I had a spare bed, and I took her downstairs to our guest bedroom. Before going to bed she proceeded to throw up again in the bathroom, then without even taking her jacket off, she dove onto the bed and covered up. I asked her if I could get anything for her and she asked for more blankets. I then shut off the light, closed the door, and went upstairs.

My wife’s Fibromyalgia must have been acting up because she had fallen asleep on the couch—our bed has become too hard for her. My kids were asleep in their bedroom, so I headed to bed myself. After getting ready for bed and lying down, I found I was all wound up and thoughts started flooding my mind.

I had this stranger in my house that I had NEVER seen before and the ONLY thing I knew about her was she said her name was Natasha. She rarely had made eye contact when talking to me and she hid herself inside her clothes. She had a small pack with her, but I never asked what she was carrying. I started worrying about the $250 cameras I had on the ledge in the room she was sleeping in, how all our Income Tax returns were in the room’s file cabinet, and the fact that a computer was in that room with full Internet access. I tried to take an inventory of all possible valuables in my mind that were stored on my lower level.

At this point I became angry with myself for being so materialistic. I told myself that if I had no possessions of value, I would be much more accommodating to helping the less fortunate. I came to the realization that it is why the rich are so cold to the world’s problems. They are attached to their belongings instead of what counts—people in need.

I finally fell into a restless sleep only to be awakened about an hour later by the sound of the downstairs bathroom fan going. Usually guests don’t bother using the fan, so this told me she must be smoking in the downstairs bathroom. My new paranoia was she might fall asleep in bed with a smoldering cigarette and burn my house down.

After falling back to sleep for a couple more hours I was awakened by a bad dream of my wife’s vehicle being stolen. I dreamed I was helplessly watching as Natasha drove off down my driveway on her way to Duluth, after finding the keys on the table or something. I got spooked later the next day when my wife told me she had the exact same dream of her vehicle being taken by our unexpected house guest.

My two kids (ages 11 & 13) had no idea someone else was in the house. They were both awake and playing videogames in the living room when I got up the next morning. When I introduced them to Natasha, they just glared at me like I was crazy and refused to talk to her. They told me later they had been awakened that night by strange noises in the house and one of them swears he saw a Xenomorph wandering around the house during the night. (For those of you who don’t know, a Xenomorph is the monster from the 1979 Sci-fi Horror movie: Alien.)

Did Natasha wander around my house while we all slept? I have no idea. My wife had awakened for a bit and tried to find someone to give Natasha a ride to Duluth, but her friends all said, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it.”

When I woke Natasha up the next morning to get ready to go, she was still in her winter jacket and the room was littered like a homeless camp with Kleenex and empty soda bottles all over the place. The bed had what appeared to be dirt and rust chips all over the sheets, and my basement smelled like cigarette smoke. Before coming up stairs Natasha threw up again. I asked her if she felt any better and she said, “A little bit” then thanked me for allowing her to spend the night.

Before leaving my wife offered to fix her breakfast, she refused any food, but asked for soda and money. I offered her $2 for bus fare and she seemed appreciative for it, then took several cans of diet coke. I also had printed out several brochures of crisis shelters with maps addresses and phone numbers off the Internet of the Twin Cities area.

On the way back into the Cities, I asked Natasha what her long term goals were. She said, “getting her kids away from her husband.” I asked her kid’s ages and she said, 6 & 4, and then she went silent, closed her eyes and pretended to sleep the rest of the way into town. She totally ignored me for the whole 40-minute trip. Her last words to me as I dropped her off at the bus stop were, “How long before the bus comes?”

I saw Natasha one more time that day waiting for our Light-Rail Train towards Minneapolis. She didn’t seem to be trying to locate any of the crisis centers I had provided information to. This was confirmed when I got back home from work. All the literature I had printed out was left on our kitchen table. I was a little bit annoyed by this.

So you’re probably wondering would I do this again? My answer: It depends on the circumstances….

View attachment 54301
An Aerial Drone Shot of My Home, See How Secluded it is!
If this were me. I'd just let her sleep in the back of my Explorer... even then I'd be pissed about it stinking the next day... but tha'd be easy to clean up...
 

lazerskull

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That was my first time taking in a total stranger, but I did NOT invite her. If she had left there is no where to go out here. No public transportation, no trains, no businesses, and no one willing to pick up a hitch-hiker. There are a few cops and a few Meth-houses, but I don't know how willing the Meth-houses would be to a stranger. We have had people hiding on our property from the cops when Meth-houses get busted. There's also a lot of hunters around so during the day you can hear occasional gun shots. It's legal to target practice, etc. around here.
You couldn't call her an Uber?
 

r3yn

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China / Canada
Very interesting tale, Doc Z.
I know those suspicions very well... I'm a long-time member of CouchSurfing, and even though I've hosted dozens of people, I still feel that trepidation and have those late night (and mid-work-day) fears. Mind you, I don't have a family, and the people I host aren't usually as desperate as a homeless person. I really hate that I feel those materialistic fears, as I claim not to be consumerist -- however, maybe these fears are unfounded. In the case of CouchSurfing, they have to be registered on the website, and have reviews from others, which adds a minimal layer of security. In your case, I guess you could have asked her for and taken a picture of her ID? But that would probably make things too awkward, though...

Another story about homeless wariness: There was one time I brought a homeless guy into a house-party. He was walking by and seemed interesting. I chatted with him for a while, and he seemed like a good guy. He told me he was homeless, and was just walking and skating around. He had a skateboard and seemed put-together-enough mentally. I told him, "yeah, my friend is having a house party. You can come if you promise to respect her and the people there". He did. I felt good, like I was doing a good thing, and helping someone less-fortunate than me. Maybe I'd have a new friend...
But after I brought him into my friend's house, he started acting really weird, paranoid-like. He started believing that all of us were out to get him, out to exploit him, or something. This made my friend (and probably most of the other punks and art students at the party) really uncomfortable. She asked me to get him out. First, we tried talking him back into the group .... But he was too far gone. He started looking at us from beneath his brow, a deep and dangerous and crazy look, and so my friend, who was a big guy, and I continued to talk to him as calmly as possible and get him outside, and my friend asked him to go for a walk. After eventually agreeing, they walked down the street, and I gathered a few friends of mine to tail them and ensure my friend's safety. They stopped on the street and talked for a long while. We watched from down the street. Finally they parted. My friend came back and found us waiting beside the house. "He's insane..." he said, almost whimpering it. "Absolutely insane. I never met someone like that before...". I gave him a hug and thanked him for dealing with that situation. In the end, bringing that homeless guy to my friend's house party not only ruined the party, but also was very close to being a very dangerous situation for all of us.

TL; DR: Homeless people often have mental issues. In the future, I won't invite them into my house, and certainly not a friend's house.
 

DoctorZ

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Very interesting tale, Doc Z.
I know those suspicions very well... I'm a long-time member of CouchSurfing, and even though I've hosted dozens of people, I still feel that trepidation and have those late night (and mid-work-day) fears. Mind you, I don't have a family, and the people I host aren't usually as desperate as a homeless person. I really hate that I feel those materialistic fears, as I claim not to be consumerist -- however, maybe these fears are unfounded. In the case of CouchSurfing, they have to be registered on the website, and have reviews from others, which adds a minimal layer of security. In your case, I guess you could have asked her for and taken a picture of her ID? But that would probably make things too awkward, though...

Another story about homeless wariness: There was one time I brought a homeless guy into a house-party. He was walking by and seemed interesting. I chatted with him for a while, and he seemed like a good guy. He told me he was homeless, and was just walking and skating around. He had a skateboard and seemed put-together-enough mentally. I told him, "yeah, my friend is having a house party. You can come if you promise to respect her and the people there". He did. I felt good, like I was doing a good thing, and helping someone less-fortunate than me. Maybe I'd have a new friend...
But after I brought him into my friend's house, he started acting really weird, paranoid-like. He started believing that all of us were out to get him, out to exploit him, or something. This made my friend (and probably most of the other punks and art students at the party) really uncomfortable. She asked me to get him out. First, we tried talking him back into the group .... But he was too far gone. He started looking at us from beneath his brow, a deep and dangerous and crazy look, and so my friend, who was a big guy, and I continued to talk to him as calmly as possible and get him outside, and my friend asked him to go for a walk. After eventually agreeing, they walked down the street, and I gathered a few friends of mine to tail them and ensure my friend's safety. They stopped on the street and talked for a long while. We watched from down the street. Finally they parted. My friend came back and found us waiting beside the house. "He's insane..." he said, almost whimpering it. "Absolutely insane. I never met someone like that before...". I gave him a hug and thanked him for dealing with that situation. In the end, bringing that homeless guy to my friend's house party not only ruined the party, but also was very close to being a very dangerous situation for all of us.

TL; DR: Homeless people often have mental issues. In the future, I won't invite them into my house, and certainly not a friend's house.

Well R3yn, a couple of buddies and I have crashed parties before where we knew NO ONE. We just saw a party going on at a house and crashed it. It went well for us every time.

However, there was one time my buddy and I were out driving around talking on the CB Radio. It was the early 1990's, we were both in our early 30's. These two girls had heard us talking and called for us over the CB, asking us to meet them in a McDonald's parking lot. After talking face to face for a few minutes from our cars they asked if we'd like to come to their party. It was a Saturday night and we didn't have anything else going on, so we agreed.

After walking into the house where the party was going on, it didn't take long before we realized this was high school TEENAGE party, and they had BOOZE and most were already getting drunk. At this same time we noticed that there were rooms cordoned off with that yellow police tape that says, "Do Not Cross Crime Scene." We got curious and asked where on earth they managed to get this police tape? One of the girls explained, "Oh the girl throwing the party's dad is the City of Spring Lake Park Chief of Police! Her parents are gone for the weekend."

By buddy and I looked at each other thinking the exact same thing. Here we are, two 30-something guys at the Police Chief's house where all these teenagers are DRINKING and DRUNK! No one would ever believe we had just met them over the CB Radio.

We explained to our hostess that we just remembered we had to be somewhere and politely excused ourselves out the door. We were so glad we never told the girls our last names or where we lived. We prayed no one had taken down our license plate number.

I believe that was the last time I ever crashed a party.
 

Trekker

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Location
Fort Worth TX
Good story and thanks for sharing!

Reminds me back in summer of 1995, my then girlfriend and myself in Colorado Springs, CO took in a homeless lady for the night. We knew her a couple of days before. So one night we took her in.

The next morning she was gone and we found stuff missing in the bathroom! (toilet paper, my GF's cosmetics, toothpaste, shampoo, a washcloth and a towel, I think there were other items but can't remember, so long ago).

Myself and my then GF looked around downtown Springs and the Marion House soup kitchen but never saw her again. We figured she skipped town or shacked up with someone else.

Never again I'd take someone in unless it's someone I know real good.
You were very kind and trusting to allow a homeless woman stay at your home. imo The homeless woman lacked gratitude, but the items taken are materialistic and can be replaced. Be glad she didn’t burn down your home to the ground or caused any other life threatening situations. I think she stole those items to stay clean and survive as best as she can. Sometimes people do things out of desperation for what many of us haven’t gone through and experienced to understand what many homeless people go through in there day to day struggle in life. Whether it’s mental health, drug addiction or alcohol that may have been the end product of them losing their job, lost a loved one or lost their home and assets. Some people choose to be homeless and some don’t, and some make poor decisions and choices that can ultimately change there lives for the better or worse.
 

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