I used to work swing shift, and would take the late night busses in Orange County home. I'd get on Line 60 in downtown Long Beach, taking it to the 57 line in Orange, then the 2 or so miles to home. The drivers of those late night busses usually having the interior lights off. They knew what their passenger load's like -- regular working people just wanting to nap before they got home, the homeless people who would sleep as the motors wound up, brakes hissed, and stops were announced -- so tiny bits of peace and quiet were appreciated.

I'd see the same faces night after night. Some were grumpy, years of living on the streets having turned their faces and attitudes to weathered stone. Some were friendly; willing to chatter, unbowed by what the fates had given them. I'd say hi, but not much else; we didn't have much in common -- my ipod and sidekick were very out of place for them.

There were routines, ways to keep their semi-warm, if bumpy, beds. People getting off at Harbor to transfer to the 43 bus. Long bus line there, could get lots of uninterrupted sleep. People getting on at Harbor; they'd done a round trip, needed to change to the 60 so they could get to the 57 for another good trip, another few hours of sleep.

It saddened me. Couldn't do much about it. I donated when I could to shelters, even when people in my social circle would question my sanity for it. "Fuck you, got mine" being the mantra of entirely too many. After all, this was a county where a light rail system was vetoed because of fears that "those" people would have too much mobility and become visible in areas where they obviously didn't belong.

Unfortunately, a few years back, the Powers that Be decided to cut even that most slim of safety nets. Budget cutbacks, no need for busses in those wee, cold hours. Regardless of the passengers inconvenienced, regardless of the people thrown even deeper into misery. Regardless of people working those late nights. Having a soul is too expensive in times of austerity.