Waylon’s ‘Getting Homeless Dude to Bus Station’ Odyssey [MAP]

Earlier today, while heading back to the radio station from lunch, a stranger asked me to give him a ride to the homeless shelter. What ensued was a brief, yet interesting, foray into the indecisiveness of an individual with far too many places to go, and an abundance of time to get there.

Following a lovely lunch at Bocaza, located just West of the intersection of 7th and North, I was approached by a homeless man who had been waiting at the bus stop. He asked if I could provide a ride to the homeless shelter. This seemed reasonable enough. He seemed harmless.

I failed to get the gentleman's name, so for the purpose of our tour, we'll refer to our indecisive guide as "Steve." He kind of looked like a Steve.

Following a few turns and a brief tour of the parking lot at R.E.I, we made our way onto 7th Street and aimed for the stoplight where we could turn to head East down North Avenue.

Shortly after making the turn, he decided the homeless shelter was no fun, and Burger King would be a far more enjoyable destination.

Burger King it is. As it happens, there's a Home of the Whopper on North Avenue, on our present course no less, not too far from the homeless shelter.

Upon arrival at Burger King, "Steve" decided to cancel his order for burgers, and pursue another option. It seemed groceries were in order. Back down North Avenue, we went, heading for 12th Street and groceries.

Somewhere before 12th street, groceries became passe', and a gas station was what "Steve" truly desired. Following a sharp left onto Southbound 12th street, we set sail for a gas station, and if things didn't improve quickly, the police station.

Somewhere in the middle of 12th Street, about midway between North Avenue and Ute, "Steve" didn't want a gas station anymore. No, "Steve" now wanted to get on a bus. Not just any bus, but a Greyhound bus. At this point, the idea of getting "Steve" out of my truck and onto a bus sounded pretty good.

Upon arrival at the Greyhound Station at 5th and Ute, "Steve" had a change of heart and decided he wanted groceries. To Hell with "Steve." At this point, "Steve" was getting a Greyhound, and "Steve" was going to like it. "Steve" was let out somewhere around mid-block on 5th Street, just past the Greyhound station.

I'm sure "Steve" is a very nice man. Judging by the aroma, he had simply partaken of a few too many "Funky Monkeys" or whatever his drink of choice was this morning.  According to Greyhound Bus Lines and their slogan, they suggest we "Leave the driving to us." That's what I intend to do. I need to get back to work. Bon Voyage, "Steve."