Last night, I worked my shift then stayed for the overnight. Saturday nights mean that we go to bed at Midnight. Once the guys were tucked in, I finally dozed off when the doorbell begin persistantly blaring at 1am. I ignored it for a moment hoping that the person would realize that we were "closed" for lack of a better word but no luck. So I answer, "hello?" The person, a woman, is asking for a guest to come up. I explain that we can't confirm if someone is here or not begin to explain that doors are shut for the evening and no one is to come or go, she cut me off telling me his support staff position, which I know. Once she heard that I would not be getting him nor sending him up she barraged me with a few "Fuck yous". How sweet.

Got called a bitch this morning, oh, that's a "FUCKING Bitch" which actually I missed when it happened, thankfully. I was called this because I went to ask 2 men who were arguing over a soda that may or may not have been stolen from one man by the other, who happen to normally be friends. I first asked them to lower their voices because the rest of the room of 30 some people still had at least a half an hour to sleep. They continued. Then I made the statement that I had 2 sodas stolen in the past month and wasn't arguing with any of them, to make the point that it wasn't worth it, arguing that is. Apparently this annoyed one of them. Maybe it *was* a dumb statement, spurred by inpatience at their lack of regard for the other guests and carrying on the silly arguement for nearly a half an hour but not worth being called a fucking bitch over, that's for sure. I should have just asked what would make this person feel redeemed, a replacement for the lost soda, etc...
I was informed of my new title by 2 other guys who overheard it. This is the type of thing that we know not to take personally but sometimes it's a challenge in the moments following it - especially when you've been nothing but kind and accomadating to the person who says things like that.

One thing that helps deflect the shitty feeling after things like this happen, is the security in knowing that we all (social service providers) have dealt with it and I'm not alone.

Which brings me to something that I've thought a lot about since I started working in the field (back at SIREN in 2006). The psychology of poverty and homelessness and how it affects persons living in it and how they interact with those around them, dynamics of street relationships and how their persona changes depending on where they are (various shelters, drop-in centers, hanging with street friends vs. talking with shelter staff). I'm trying as hard as possible to gain understanding of all of this as to better equip me to deal with things such as the above arguement - it might very well be that the person that called me a fucking bitch is also on edge because his bed ends tonight and he is stressed out and that pushed him over. Or maybe he called me that because his bed is up tonight and he no longer has to front to staff and his true personality is out right now.

Of course, as usual, there could be a dozen answers.