The Streets

Stuck sitting outside the police station as the rain eased up, I evaluated my options for the night.

I could have taken the train to Union Station and tried to get a Metrolink back to the Antelope Valley, taking an Uber home for a good night’s rest before making the return trip back to Pasadena in the morning. I could have gotten a hotel for the night. But those options would cost money. Possibly a lot of money if I went the hotel route.

More importantly, it was money I was saving for my big trip. Money I wasn’t planning on spending. Money that would have to be paid on top of an unknown number of ridiculous fees. It was money that I would be unfairly parted with, and I couldn’t stand to lose any more of it.

So rather than throw away my savings for a night of comfort, I chose to rough it out on the streets of Pasadena. I waited for the rain to stop under the awning of the police station, then set my course for Planet Fitness and wandered off into the night.

The walk over was not a pleasant one. My clothes were soaked, including my shoes and socks, and the weather was uncharacteristically cold for March. The rain was sporadic, coming down in light showers. I was shivering within minutes of setting off.

I discovered a Target with an hour left until closing time and went inside to warm up. I absent-mindedly browsed the store, drying off a little before buying myself everything I needed to use the facilities at the gym; a towel, a lock, and some sandals. The first thing I wanted to do when I got to Planet Fitness was take a nice, hot shower.

After another short jaunt through the rain, that’s exactly what I did. It was my first time putting my gym membership to use, and I was happy to find the facilities suitable enough. The shower was warm, and I was able to dry out my clothing using a hand dryer.

I hopped on a stationary bike for a couple of hours, working out my frustration through physical exhaustion. After trying out some different equipment in the gym, the fatigue and hunger started to set in, so I hit the streets again in the search for food.

IHOP was a short walk away and open 24 hours a day, so I made myself comfortable in one of the booths and laid out my car paperwork to see if it was still legible despite the rain damage. A server came by and took my order, noticing the paperwork and sympathizing with my plight, telling me his car was also snatched up by a predatory tow company. He wished me the best of luck, and after a stack of pancakes and a few cups of coffee, I felt it was time for me to move on.

It was just after 2 AM, the rain had fully stopped and the streets were abandoned except for the occasional car. I decided to roam around Pasadena for a bit and wandered down to Colorado Boulevard, where the Rose Parade marches every January. I had watched part of it in person that very year, but that night I wouldn’t have cared if I saw another parade in my life.

Initially I laughed at the idea of being stuck in Pasadena. It was known as a nicer part of the LA area, and I thought the most disturbing thing I would see would be a high concentration of Whole Foods and coffee shops.

But no matter how hard the NIMBYs of Southern California try to eradicate the undesirables from their communities, members of the unhoused population are not just trash that can be disposed of. When I drew closer to the metro station I discovered that even Pasadena’s public places are home to people in crisis, myself included for that night.

Walking the streets was not enough to keep the exhaustion from setting in, and a bench in a secluded alley was especially appealing. I rolled up my towel and used it as a makeshift pillow, resting for a few hours, paranoid of being discovered by building security, the police, or anyone else. Any amount of sleep at that point was a welcome comfort, and I took whatever shut-eye I could get.

A few hours of fitful napping later, and I was ready to get on the move again.