I was exhausted today, and I'm sick. My throat was scratchy and, of course, I was battling my depression on the subway ride home when a homeless guy (he looked to be in his fifties) gets on the train with a large bag filled with trash. He slowly surveyed the train and then, in a deep and sonorous voice, he began to sing:

Hello, is it me you're looking for?
'Cause I wonder where you are
And I wonder what you do
Are you somewhere feeling lonely or is someone loving you?
Tell me how to win your heart
For I haven't got a clue
But let me start by saying ... I love you


Yes, it's Lionel Richie people. I could barely keep myself from giggling even though what made it so funny was the soulfulness with which he sang it. Because I've dated lots of guys, but never a homeless one. Although I was hit on by a panhandler once. Well, he asked me out to dinner.

Seriously.

It was a summer night and I was walking back to my dorm (I was still young and too kind to strangers), when a guy in a wheelchair asked me something. I don't remember what, but it wasn't money. Somehow, he got me into a conversation, which he interrupted a few times to ask passerbys for change. Finally he said to me, "You know, there's a great place in Chinatown I know about. I'd love to take you to dinner there." To which I politely declined, but since then I wish I reconsidered. (Right now I could be living in his and hers adjoining refrigerator boxes.) After all, I've dated gainfully employed men who didn't even have the courtesy to pay for dinner.
Perhaps I have been lookin' for love in all the wrong places.