Go to work

She slipped out of her room and started down the street to the Mission. Faye worked the soup line for the homeless from 9 AM to 12 PM every day before she went to either the local community college, or to her crappy job. It earned her extra credit, afterall. She saw the line around the corner before she ever got to the door. The old men leered at her, as always, some whistled or made a pervy comment, as she turned to go down the back alley to the worker's entrance.

She saw him sitting in his usual spot on the back steps. Freddy the Wiper; Irish immigrant. He was in his mid sixties at least, and got his nickname from the con he ran. Freddy was one of the bums that walk up to your car when you are stopped at a light and start to wash your windows. He wore an old Army jacket over his "work attire" which as a stained work shirt and dirty brown trousers, but Faye knew he wasn't a veteran. He would pull his gig near real automated car washes. He would wipe the window, and when the driver complained, he would say "and if you would like the rest of the car, I'll put the coins in for you (indicating the carwash as if he were an employee). Only two more dollars for a wax at the end!" Funny thing about him is that even if they said no to the wax, he'd still put the coins in for them.