The first thing I notice when I board the 84 is a man who is curled into a ball on one of the seats. He’s talking to himself. He is clearly unwell. He has no shoes, and although it’s January, he’s only wearing a ripped tank top, torn jeans, and has a garbage bag full of what I assume is his bedding for the night.
Like all the other people on the bus, I try my best to pretend that he’s not there at all.
As the bus gets fuller and more crowded moving along the route, I get slowly and uncomfortably pushed towards this stranger. Then a woman gets up from her chair, completely blocking the exit, and starts fiddling around with her shoes. A few people trying to get off the bus deftly and grudgingly struggle to get around her before the bus doors close.
I realize then that she’s taking off her shoes.
With a lyrical Spanish accent, she stands bravely in her socks and offers the man her boots – a pair of salt-stained camel coloured sheepskin Ugg boots. Everyone loves to hate Ugg boots, but there seems to be no shortage of people spending money on them.
He hesitates.
She says “Seriously man, you’re going to get sick if you walk around in your bare feet in this rain.”
He says “Thank you” four or more times, and she promptly gets off the bus at the next stop, skipping away through the dark in the rain.
More people load on to the bus, so now I’m standing directly beside the man who is turning the boots over in his hands. I think how bold it was for that girl to give up these boots on a whim, walking off the bus in just her socks, while we all stood around and pretended he was invisible. I reflect on the unnecessary negative stereotypes we apply to struggling people in this city, and think about the stigmas surrounding mental health, addiction, and homelessness. I stop thinking about these things when I notice that he’s talking to me.
“…you don’t even have to listen to me… I’m just a talker… I ain’t here to bother nobody… I just like talking to people, you see? … you got a nice smile, you know that?”
“Thank you. That was sure nice of her to offer those boots to you. People in Vancouver pay a lot of money for those things.”
He looks up at me and says straight, “I’ll trade them to you for some weed.”
I don’t know what to say. So I just say what I’m thinking. “I don’t even know where to get weed.”
“We just passed a dispensary, we could get off at the next stop and walk back to it.”
“Sorry man, I can’t do that for you.”
He shrugs and starts asking anyone else if they’ll make the trade. I get off the bus feeling confused and sad.