No home on earth | Tale Wherein I Meet a Spartan

No home on earth

Originally uploaded by anwamehtar

Random guy sleeping in chair on first floor of tower. Probably homeless.

He woke up, repositioned his brown felt blanket, looked my direction, and said “Those are nice shoes.” He was referring to my three year old grey Reeboks with orange highlights — the cheapest pair on sale at Kohl’s at the time.

“Thanks,” I replied.

He pointed to his white shoes and stated, “These are spartan shoes. For a while I wasn’t sure if I wanted to live or die, but I decided to live and became a Spartan so I got these shoes.”


A few moments passed as I glance towards my book deciding if I should continue reading or keep talking.

He continued talking. “I don’t know if I like this jacket, I don’t think I want it anymore.” As he said this he threw a blue windbreaker onto the unoccupied orange leatherish chairs. Four chairs sit in the corner of the first floor in a mini art gallery on the first floor of the Municipal Tower.

I suggested, “Well it’s important to stay warm though you might need it.”

“Yeah. This weather really has been bothering me lately.” He lowered the hood from his red hoodie. His dark brown hair and youthful face indicated his age to be mid-twenties.

The Spartan began to talk more about his lifestyle. “There’s two elements of life. There’s the solid and there’s the risk.” He points to me and says, “There’s non risk…,” and then points to himself before continuing, “…and there’s risk. Do you have the time?”

I dug my cell phone out of my pocket, “7:49 AM. Which means I’ve got to go to work actually. It pays the bills — it gives me somewhere warm to sleep.”

“Another part of being a spartan is breakfast. I’m going to go find breakfast. See you around.”

“Alright, see ya later.”