The Plight of the Working Poor

This hub is not created for a pity party. it was created for those financially secure people to read an example of how the other half lives. It could happen to anybody, especially in this economy. Accidents happen and mistakes are made.

I am well aware that what doesn't kill you outright will only make you stronger and I choose to use life's difficulties as learning experiences.

I worked at the Waffle House in Little Rock before moving back to Florida. I am Bipolar, but a good worker, so my old boss put up with the way I would walk out when I got so mad or upset I would cry. I refuse to cry in front of strangers and I didn't have money to go to the doctor and get my medicine so, when I would get upset, I would leave, even if it was the middle of my shift. My boss, Brent Shlinker deserves all the credit of keeping me in a home and fed last year. He was the only boss I ever had that understood, and overlooked, my condition.

My fiance' and I moved back to Florida. A few months later, I was discharged from Waffle House for coming on the property after calling off. I was grieving over the death of a close family member. I went to Waffle House to visit two coworker friends. I was upset and some people started spreading rumors. I was discharged after a weeks suspension because I supposedly threatened to hit the cook (which I didn't) in front of a manager that wasn't even there. At least, that's what was told to the unemployment office.

My fiance still works there. We have been waiting on a vacation check that isn't coming. Waffle House changed the rules in the middle of the game and forgot to tell us.

Half the customers don't tip. We know they know we make less than 5 dollars an hour, less than 3 in Arkansas, but the cheapskates pretend they don't know, or the come with their last 5 dollars and get something off the dollar menu. my fiance' often comes home with less than 20 dollars in tips.

Waffle House doesn't care. The company allocates your tips based on your sales, to ensure you make minimum wage, whether or not you do, and then tax you based on what they decide you make. Employees can request a Tip Report Form but managers never have any available.

Once a year, Waffle House gives you an opportunity to purchase health insurance. East Coast Waffles offers it in April. We were denied the opportunity to purchase insurance, despite being transfers, because we didn't start until May. I never got insurance. Making less than minimum wage, I couldn't afford to go to the doctor to get medicine for my bipolar disorder. My moods got out of control: my life fell apart. I currently receive 144 dollars a week for unemployment. Panhandlers make more money than me.

Easier said then done. Why?

a. This country is in a recession and there are few jobs.

b. I live in Ocala, Fl., where there are no jobs.

c. I have an 18 year old son with autism and schizophrenia and there are no places to get after school care for him.

d. It's impossible trying to work around the school schedule because these kids here are out of school more than they go. They get early release every other Wednesday and get off the whole day every other Friday. They also get unexplained mini vacations. My son was suspended for 3 days just after school resumed after New Years, but was out for 10 days due to a mini break (in January?).

e. I don't have transportation, due to my own bipolar stupidity, and don't have the money to get any. Public transportation in Ocala is a joke.

We returned to Ocala in May, 2010, after a family tragedy that had severe repercussions. On May 24, I called the Centers (the local mental health center) to get medication for my bipolar disorder and counseling for my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder on May 24. They scheduled my appointment for September 14. On Sept. 10, someone from the Centers called me and told me that because they just received a lot of court orders, which get priority, and I am uninsured, my appointment was rescheduled for Feb. 2. That's an eight month wait, just for an evaluation, a ten month wait to get meds. After my eval, I was given a med clinic appointment for March 3. After that, because I can't afford my medication, I have to wait a month to be approved for the prescription program and have my medicine shipped to me.

When the Centers called me to reschedule my appointment, I told them I would be dead or in jail by February. I'm obviously still alive, but I have been arrested twice, and am currently on a year probation, that I can't afford, for obstructing justice.

I believe in government assistance for those who are trying to be self sufficient and those who can't be self sufficient. I paid my state taxes when I worked, but can't get much help now that I need it. We receive 179 dollars a month in food stamps. That about covers the monthly milk needs of my 6'4" still growing son. I have missed a lot of meals, saying I don't like this and I don't like that, so my son can have a full belly, without guilt. I am a very picky eater, and often purchase things I don't eat (like dark meat chicken), so that my family gets food. This has been good for my waistline, but really bad for my hypoglycemia.

Now if my fiance' and I break up and I kick him out of the house, I can get 400 dollars in food stamps, full coverage medicaid, and a monthly check. But, because he works, I don't eat.

We have done all we can for my family and want to go home to Naples, our original plan. I found a wonderful, non-profit private school for my son in Naples. I have contacted the David Lawrence Center in Naples for Mental Health services and can be seen right away. They have a five day a week walk-in clinic so no more Baker Acts for my son, which traumatize him. Naples also has a medical center for the working uninsured where my fiance' can get treatment for his high blood pressure and I can get surgery for my IVT (again), before a clot breaks free and kills me.

The judge said "no!"

I have three daughters living in Naples. I have a younger brother in Naples. I have family support in Naples. My son's father is in Naples. I have arranged to get counseling for my PTSD, a horrible case of battered womens' syndrome, at the Shelter for Abused Women in Naples. I have applications in for housing in Naples and have found several decent subsidized housing complexes near my fiance's work. My fiance' put in for a job transfer already. The judge still said "no".

I had a PTSD flashback, my first ever, and completely flipped out. Being off my medication didn't help. I ran my mouth to a police officer. He arrested me for obstruction. I plead out at first appearance. I tried to explain to Judge Futch that I suffer a chemical imbalance in my brain and have been unable to get my medication. I explained what happened with the Centers and why I wasn't working. He told me "Get off your lazy bum and  do something with yourself. Stop letting them label you and using that as an excuse to do nothing with your life. I am tired of excuses." Then he sentenced me to a year probation and 50 community service hours, for running my bipolar mouth.. I told him I had plans to move to Naples and why. The judge said "no".

I have filed an appeal. per se, because I can't afford an attorney. My sentence should be suspended pending appeal. I hope so, because I didn't have the money for a drug test for probation. Normally that would be a violation of probation, with up to a year in jail. I plan to move to Naples in three weeks, as my appeal will be pending for a while. The judge may have said "no!', but I said "yes!". I'm going home to Naples.

4:00 AM- If you don't have a car, or gas money for a car you do have, this will be the time you start walking, unless you live in a big city with 24 hour bus service, live on a bus route, and have money for the bus, which you probably don't.

5:15 AM- What's that smell? Oh, it's the guy next to you who is living in the woods, hasn't showered, and spent the night drinking somebody else's cheap beer.

5:30 AM- You fill out the application nobody will bother to look at unless they are desperately looking for a worker with skills you probably don't have.

6:00 AM- Now that a few repeat tickets have been sent out, you finally get to sit down.

7:00 AM- Now that your tailbone is numb, you walk around hoping you can kill two birds with one stone and get noticed.

7:30 AM- Your drink is gone, you are thirsty and forced to refill your water bottle at a fountain that somebody keeps spitting in.

8:00 AM- You are trying to decide whether to chance using the scary bathroom or going outside to find a bush.

8:00 AM- You've been up for hours and your lunch is gone.

9:00 AM You start your trek home, because there is no work left for the day and you are out of bus/gas money.

Get the picture?

Eventually things will improve, with the help of hard work and good decisions. Many people who have never "been there" may expect overnight miracles, but it doesn't happen that way. Don't be afraid to give somebody a helping hand and a pat on the back for getting back on his/her feet. Remember, it can happen to you.