It was around this time in my life that I met Yolanda.

I was sleeping on a park bench one day when I awoke to a wet sensation on my face. Slightly aroused and startled, I awoke to find a large collie licking the right side of my face. I jolted up and looked around to look for an owner or any person who looked like they'd be in search of a lost dog. It was just then that a tall, slender, dark-haired woman came over to me and apologized for her dog getting loose. I barely heard a word she said because I was immediately drawn into her piercing blue eyes which were brighter than the afternoon sky. I had never seen anything like her. The beauty that she so effortlessly radiated was beyond magical. I eventually muttered something that I thought sounded like, "No big deal". My mind raced to find something I could say to keep her here, but before I knew it, she was walking away with her dog in the direction she came from.

I didn't sleep much the next two nights. I just thought of how I could possibly see that woman again. I walked around town half hoping to run into her, half hoping to find a place that was hiring and wouldn't mind handing an application to a straggly homeless man. It was kind of a horrible cycle. I had to buy clothes and clean myself up before I could go job hunting; however, I had no money to buy clothes and clean myself up since I had no job. I got turned down at virtually every place I went to.

I forgot to mention that now I'm in Denver, Colorado. So I decided that the only way to get presentable clothes was to panhandle. I picked a spot near Benedict Fountain and presented people with the following statement. "Hi, my name is Bandy and I need to be honest with you. I'm terribly down on my luck and need a few dollars to purchase clothes for a job interview. Any assistance would be greatly appreciated." I then put on the sad puppy look and locked into their eyes while squeezing out a salty tear. Within a few hours I collected $25 dollars, enough to buy a dress shirt, nice pants, shoes and a belt from Goodwill.

So with my wad of cash in pocket I started the long walk up Colfax Avenue towards Goodwill. By the time I got there, it was closed. I always find myself just missing the boat in life. I'm a terrible planner and find it difficult to think rationally when there is something I want. Having more money at that moment since working at the school, I felt the urge to spend a little. I wasn't sure what to buy until I walked past a small neon tube sign hanging outside a rotting wooden building. I entered into a smokey room with a single incandescent bulb hanging by a cord from the ceiling. I promised myself before I entered that I would only have a beer and some fries, but like my Dad, once I start drinking I can't stop. Four beers and three shots of whiskey later, I flashed back to consciousness as I was being thrown horizontally out the side door. I landed on my cheek and was knocked out for what seems like a minute. When I came to, I attempted to shut my mouth and was shocked when my teeth wouldn't line up like they were supposed to. A tremendous pain rushed to my skull. My jaw was dislocated and I was the only one that could put it back in place. At this point I was in shock. I reached in my mouth and pinched my lower molars between my my thumb and pointer finger on each side. I counted to three and pushed with all my might to set my jaw back back in alignment. I heard a loud pop as the upper jaw grinded back in place below my right ear. Opening and closing my mouth made a melody of pops, cracks, and clicking noises. I walked behind the bar dumpster and passed out in exhaustion, drunkenness, and pain.

The next day I woke up in the most excruciating pain. I couldn't even open my mouth wide enough to eat a piece of sliced bread. I set off towards the soup kitchen to get the usual midday meal. Lucky for me they were serving my favorite, lentil and onion soup. My mood improved after a meal and I took off down the street for a stroll. Along the way, I saw a strap hanging out a trashcan on the street. On closer inspection, it was an orange Jansport backpack in only slightly worn condition. I took the bag and put my arms through it. It fit perfectly. My mouth and cheeks started raising into a smile. It felt like a passerby hit me square in the face with a sledgehammer. I later read that a jaw dislocation and a broken collar bone are the two most painful injuries.

During the next week, I frequented Goodwill stealing each item one at a time, secretly stuffing them in my new backpack, inside the dressing room. I tried a few times to beg for money by the fountain, but it was hard to talk and people stayed away from me because of the wound on my cheek.