pain shooting through his leg. Time to find another place to sleep. The new bed comes in the form of a table at the Luxor Casino’s food court. It’s not much, but it offers a promise of a few hours of restless sleep. The end of that first day was difficult for Logan. His first night feeling what it was like to have no name, money or home left him exhausted and feeling degraded and embarrassed. He did not stay alone for long, however. Day two was the beginning of his run-ins with the seedy areas of Las Vegas. It was the beginning of Logan being exposed to a culture he had only heard about from the media and Hollywood movies.
When in doubt, gambling seemed to be the next rational choice to line his pocket with something other than dust. Even if that meant obtaining money in a questionable way, none of it matters when a man
I never thought I’d see a day when a homeless man scrounging for fast food handouts was the object of my envy, but it has come.
Now I am hungry. To make matters worse, I still don’t have my money for bandages and Neosporin. So I do what any recent college graduate who finds himself in a financial bind does. I ask for money. Logan is not proud of the attempts, and apparently neither is his audience. Not only does he not receive so much as a dime, but the individuals do not even offer a polite, “I’m sorry.” A natural showman in my normal life, I am quickly reduced to a soft-spoken quivering mess when faced with begging others for change.
32
By the end of the night, Logan walks away from The Strip with $18.48 to his name. Never A Quitter
Do As The Sinners Do
It has been over 24 hours since Logan has had so much as a bite to eat. Food would be a god-send right about now, but after going on a wild goose chase with a slightly unstable fellow named Thomas, the chances of receiving any sustenance were becoming slimmer and slimmer. A burger, an order of French Fries, anything would help to stifle the groans that his stomach were beginning to emit in their deprived state. Alas, pride wins over. Walking away from the local Burger King with nothing more than a cup of free water, he resigns himself to feast on his pride and timidity. Begging isn’t an art that comes easily to those not predisposed to the act, a fact Logan finds out the hard way. On his second day on The Strip, he has the epiphany.
I am ecstatic. I view the nine dollars in my pocket as a shark views blood; I can’t wait to get more.
is hungry. The Golden Nugget, Sahara, Aladdin and The Tuscany. All four offer free play, all four offer a chance for a little bit of profit. Entering The Golden Nugget with newfound confidence, Logan signs up for a player’s card. The little plastic card is worthless but the promise it holds is not lost on its holder. With a little bit of luck, the worthless card (which has a $10 signup credit preloaded) could transform into something worth more. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Five new cards fill the screen of the “Game King” poker screen. Selecting what cards to hold, when to fold and when to draw, Logan turns three dollars of slot play into five actual dollars. A meal at McDonalds. Continuing his play, he walks out of The Golden Nugget with more money than he’s had since being dropped off at The Strip—nine dollars now fill his once empty pocket.
The distinction between his ‘normal’ and ‘homeless’ lives is a balance that’s hard for Logan to continue dancing between. How does one stay in a lifestyle wrought with disease and famine when they know a warm bed and potential bank account is waiting at home? “Quitting was never an option,” he said. “People who are truly homeless do not have the option to quit, therefore I never let the thought enter my mind.” Needless to say, the experience was not an easy one. The previous stories represent the different experiences he endured due to the culture of homelessness, but the fact that he lacked funds was a recurring problem. The first day alone caused him to fret when he realized he’d need to turn in over 400 recyclables to buy a package of gauze and antiinfection cream. While he could have walked away at any time, the first real chance to change things around came when he met up Randy’s uncle for their weekly meeting, an arrangement created in order to give Logan’s mother piece of mind that somebody would check in on him every seven days. Scott pulled up to the curb and got out wearing a business suit. The passenger seat of the little green car catches Logan’s attention. After spending an hour looking through the trash for a penny, the bag on the seat that holds his wallet and cell phone is a temptation similar to that of a bottle of rum to an alcoholic. Self-control is key. Rifling through the bag, Logan skips past the cash that adds up to over $100 and grabs his identification—a privilege he thought many lacked in his newfound culture, but was actually an accepted artifact. “Even five dollars would mean the world to me at this point,” he wrote. “But I can’t bring myself to use it. Taking money out of the wallet would be compromising my integrity, and I feel that I’ve done that enough already.” So rather than risk his integrity by grabbing the wallet, he brainstormed creative begging signs for his freshly found piece of cardboard. Ideas included: 1.Standing in front of a chapel and offer,