That’s right, folks, it was Church Night again.

I had all sorts of ideas for this story, but I increasingly believe that absolutely everything is said in confidence.

The guy who introduced me to the burner scene actually came out for once. We chilled in the parking lot, with his former garage dweller.

So, we’re all drinking beers and passing around a joint. Said ex-housemate has gone full-on MAGA, which basically led to me remaining silent. If it’s racist or misogynist, he said it.

After spinning our wheels awhile, we joined the group. I spent the better part of two hours accidentally chatting with someone who lived in a van for three years and is looking to do so again.

My friend drives me back to my van with a ladder, and climbs up himself to put my roof vent back on its track. Then, it’s back to the warehouse.

All of it was pleasant … but these nights remind me of what I don’t have the other six nights of the week.