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Today as I was waiting for the 43, a homeless man came up and started to ask me for change. “I only have six cents,” I said to him. “Oh, that’s fine – I’ll take it!” So I gave him the change and then he sat down next to me and started talking about his life. He kept saying how much he liked my necklace – and I kept thinking he was talking about my iPod! So I told him it played music - “It’s an MP3 player?” “Yeah!” but forgot that I was indeed wearing this necklace from Forever 21. I asked him if he was from Portland, but he said he’s actually from everywhere. He went to UC Berkeley as a kid and said he studied history and several languages. He’s been homeless for nine months now, and was once making $1,200 a week. He plays the guitar and drums and left his previous job to start a rock band. He’s also still very bitter about the guy who stole his wife. (I’d be, too.) His name is Mark and he’s a street poet. He showed me a song he wrote about his first love – a lady named Angeline. It was really good – REALLY good. I clapped at the end and told him he had an amazing memory and asked where he wrote all his songs. “In my head, I do all my writing in my head,” he remarked. He also told me that his friend broke his guitar and that he’s out $3,000. asked him why his friend did that, and he told me that his friend was confronted by some people and used his guitar as a weapon. “That wasn’t very nice,” I told him. They are not friends anymore. He showed me this really cool medal that someone had given him recently. I wanted to give him something, too – but the only thing I had that was cool was some Dentyne ice gum. “Want one?” I said to him. “Oh yes, my breath sure stinks,” he answered. I felt bad because my bus was due any minute, but I was really enjoying talking to this guy. I had to interrupt him but he was actually really cool. When I got on the bus, I saw that someone else was keeping him company.