In fact he asked me for money. I didn't give him any, mostly on the "don't feed a stray cat" theory. Though the place to crash part has probably done that. Sigh. I don't know. John's not generally that bad a guy, and he needs a place to crash for the week. On the other hand, I'm tired of running a flophouse.
The show was actually pretty awesome, which is rare for suicide - at least from my perspective. But a whole bunch of people showed up, including supersniffles, twitchet, unbreak_able (Who didn't sing :-(), dancin_whitey, Sara, Gretchen, Kristen, and a very hesitant Steve, coaxed to suicide by Cindi. He discovered to his shock that I picked songs he knew and liked.
I spent a fair amount of the evening talking with Cindi, which was surprising given how busy suicide normally keeps me. But I seemed to stay on top of everything.
I even ran to 1:45, in part because an intoxicated Hun insisted I finish off by doing Summer Nights with her. My favorite song. I was happy when Steve grabbed the mic and launched into the raunchiest version of the male part I've heard. Hun less so. Oh well.
I then took Cindi home, and spent over an hour just talking, meeting her animals, and going through her books. Much fun.
And now I'm in Cardinal Lounge, which may become my late supper location of choice: They've got wifi! Also pie.