Luck is all that matters in this life
Jimmy was asleep as I was heading out to swim - a big bundle wrapped up in a sleeping bag - but by the time I came back he was awake, rubbing his eyes and looking out to sea, regarding the vast expanse of water and sky, king of all he surveyed. We chatted as I changed. He had seen the Cutting Edge a few nights before and thought it was gas with the three women, he said.
We talked a bit about our history. Not that it's OK to quiz people about their history and how they ended up sleeping rough, but in fairness, he started it. He was as nosy about me as I was about him. He told me his tale of woe and I told him mine. He was saying he could have got back into college recently but the homeless system prevented him from doing it due to him not having an address at the right time.
Then he asked about what I did in college. And I just said commerce. I was too embarrassed to admit that what I mainly did was drank and messed and chased girls and all the usual things that we do when we get to go to college young, as a matter of course. Jimmy probably wouldn't have taken the opportunity of college as much for granted at nearly 60 as I did at 18.