DO YA WANNA DANCE?

What a great song.

Well, do ya wanna dance under the moonlight,
hold my hand all through the night,
oh, baby, baby, baby do ya wanna dance?

Sounds tame, but when Bette Midler sings it, shivers go right up the spine.

Ok, but this might not be the right time to get those shivers, and tingles and exchanging longing gazes and doing the wee wee dance whenever you're in the presence of that special person.

And homeless nation probably isn't the right place, because here you're not really in the right frame of mind for that kind of monkey business. And in the available lighting out here on the street, yikes! Boris Karloff could look like that special person.

Yeah, 'hooking up' out here could give you a breakdown if you don't watch yourself.

My late friend, Robert had a good take on the whole 'hooking up' deal. He'd sit on a bench watching a couple canoodling over in a corner. Then he'd say "Look at that. Ya got a guy who's down to a zero, a gal who's down to a zero, and they wanna get together....and whaddaya got?
Two zeros. "

He had a point. I mean, what does anybody have to offer each other out here? Another friend here, a lovely woman , put it bluntly. "Why bother? after you do the deed...you'd both be asking the other for a cigarette...or a bus pass!"

It's awkward enough to 'date' in the outside world. You arrange to meet, you change your skirt five times before you decide if you want to go dressed as Peggy the cheerleader or Zelda the hussy. Then you sit down at a dinner table for two hours and tell lies to each other,and then you probably have a hard time deciding if the evening merits a fumbly good night kiss. Or following the date with breakfast. My odds are on the Zelda look for breakfast. If only because the Zelda look probably drinks more martinis than usual.

Mating rituals here in homeless nation are a whole different thing.

If you're here, you're probably available. No sense in being coy about it. A lot of people end up here because something went wrong with the previous romantic situation, which probably started out with one of those date things that then ended in the breakfast thing and then years of the sheer hell thing until one of you bailed and landed here. With nothing. You're now a zero.

And a target. Everybody wants something out here. And 'hooking up' is a good way to get it.
That guy over there, who is slithering closer, is probably trying to figure out if you have any kind of income. Income means sweet talking you into a couple of bus passes. Your food stamps, tons of cigarettes, and a lot of other necessities. Necessities because he doesn't have an income but he's got a very smooth line and he'll tell you a lot about that awful woman who took everything he had, and then disabled him permanently by busting both of his ear drums when he tried to restrain her from robbing an old person.

And he probably likes to drink a lot too, just to prevent the awful flash backs of having his ear drums busted while performing an act of heroism. But, oh yeah, you've fallen in love.

Stepped in it sounds more likely. I mean why else would you give up all of your food stamps, bus passes, cigarettes and cold cash you get from whatever flaky kind of job you might find unless you had found true love?

Because you're temporarily nuts, is why. You're lost all reasoning power. You're homeless and you're in shock. Especially if you're a woman. Suddenly you have no place to sleep. Hardly any food or clothing. And you probably aren't looking real good. No money for good cosmetics, and a lot of bad free haircuts, second hand clothes that come in size 'who knows, just take it, it's free.' And you haven't had your teeth cleaned in months, and the only real showers you get are the ones the cars spray on you while passing through the puddles after a rainstorm.

And it could be Attila the hun whispering in your ear, "Baby...who's your daddy?" and you wouldn't care. It's the call of the wild. The mating ritual of the streets. And no plummage.
This is straight up basic, no frills, generic courtship. And it could cost you more than a little cash , a few cigarettes, and some bus passes.

What little dignity you have left, maybe, when Mr. Wonderful finds another person who can afford more cigarettes, bus passes and walking around money.

But be of good heart. Unlike an attack by the Borg of "Star Trek The Next Generation."
Resistance is not futile.

Do like smart street puppies do. Travel in packs. Share stuff with puppies who care about you because they really like you, or are simply kindly puppies rowing along in the same boat you're in. And save your cigarettes and bus passes and cash for yourself. Who knows, you might save enough to get some proper eyeliner and a good haircut.

Save the canoodling business until you exit homeless nation, stage left or right or wherever you are bound. And don't listen to any torchy songs while you're here, like, "Do ya wanna dance?" You'll leave faster and feel better if ya check the romance at the door when you tumble in.

And if some guy slithers up to you and whispers in your ear, 'Hey, baby...who's your daddy?'

Well, hey. Bust his ear drums. Works for me.