Social services

"Now serving number ninety two," the computerized voice said, "at window number one." Dallas looked down at his number, which was A099, and decided that he needed to move seats in the waiting room. The smell of body odor from the family of migrant workers next to him was starting to turn his stomach a little and he needed a place where he could stretch out his long legs.

"Now serving number ninety three" the voice said as a muffin-topped young mother of two grabbed her ninos and took them up to the window, leaving some open seats against the window where he could stretch out and not worry about blocking the aisle with his long limbs. Dallas stood up with confidence and moved to the open seats with authority as if to say, "this is where I belong."

This was not his first journey to the wellfare office and most likely will not be his last. He is always interested to see the face of "poverty" in this country. Being a 6'1" good looking white man, he did not fit into many people's idea of a recipient of their tax dollars, but what he found was that there was not one face of poverty because in this economy, it affects all kinds.

He notices an older Phillipino man with a new application and his wife. The man has let his grey roots grow out for a few months now as evidence by the appearance of spats on his hairline. Dallas has a funny thought that maybe his hair color just started coming in grey when things started to really get bad for them financially.
The couple look like they are not used to asking for anything and they definitely do not know their way around this office. They stay close to each other for comfort.