6.25.2017

Working in a restaurant teaches you many things. How to speak to people. How to remain patient. How to stay composed. How to manage. And so on.

Sometimes these are positive experiences. Sometimes they are not.

I opened at 10 a.m. today. Between calling and confirming reservations, I took sips of hot coffee from my mug—enjoying what time was left in the morning.

I work in Center City, Philadelphia. Needless to say, there are a lot of characters that I’ve interacted with or watched over the years while working in the restaurant business. There was once the man who sang songs from The Lion King while riding his bike up and down the street. The woman who wore a fur coat as she walked, even in the Summer. And the boy who played the clarinet during closing time and came in for the simple joy of an after-dinner mint.

Today, there was a woman wearing a daisy-printed cloth headband. She wore a tattered grey sweat suit, and carried a grey leather bag. Finding a spot of shade in the intense Summer heat, she sat underneath the awning outside of the restaurant. Every few tourists and locals that passed she would ask for food or money. One woman passed by with a glaring and judgmental look. And many more did the same. It only took another thirty minutes until a family stopped to give her their leftovers: half of a hoagie and some Chipotle.

As they walked away, they had to take a detour into the street due a homeless man napping, sprawled across the sidewalk.

I watched as the woman opened the food. I honestly didn’t think she was going to eat it. Most of the homeless in this specific area of Philadelphia tend not to. But she proved me wrong. She emptied the leftover meats and cheeses from the hoagie into the Chipotle bowl and mixed it together. Eating the leftovers with her fingers—the family did not have any plasticware—it was a serene moment derived from an act of true human connection. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

It took only half of a burrito bowl until she began throwing food at people passing by. A one-sided food fight. One against all.

No one stopped. In fact, it was as if the woman and her food throwing were invisible—non-existent—to the lives of those more fortunate. It wasn’t until a server’s friend told us that we even knew. Of course we had to stop the actions, but it begs the question—what does a homeless person have to do in order to get an ounce of attention, respect, and response?

According to the National Alliance to End Homelessness, there were 564,708 people experiencing homelessness in 2015. In Philadelphia, alone, there were 6,500 people reported living on the streets, abandoned buildings, cars, and more that same year.

Working at the restaurant, I watch the same bodies sit on curbs and perch against restaurant awnings for shade. Some organizations are trying to help, but there needs to be more. More people, more action, more belief. Everyone deserves a home. Everyone deserves food. And everyone deserves to feel as if they exist.

One woman often sits on the corner of the street holding up signs that say “even a smile helps.” No one likes to feel ignored, especially when you need help.