As my business partner and I exited his vehicle, a stern coldness hung in the air. We had just had an intense conversation (you know, about business). As my feet touched the concrete, I recognized how serious the situation had become. It was one thing when we planned it, but physically being in the space where the alleged events were said to have taken place, it started to hit me. My partner and I put a pin in our business and shifted our focus to the matter at hand: a local show being hosted at Ceremony skate shop in downtown San Luis Obispo, California.

Every time I visit the area, I can’t help but think of the stark contrast between San Luis Obispo and Santa Maria (a more populated agricultural town about 30 minutes south of SLO). As we walked the streets, I noticed the entire environment had been engineered to be inviting. A separate small concert was going on at Mission San Luis Obispo (located directly in downtown SLO), so a scarcity of people wasn’t an issue that night. It was about 7:30 PM, and the golden downtown lights were on. We had parked quite a few blocks away due to the influx of people. Walking the (few) streets of downtown gave me a strange jolt of confidence. Thinking on it now, I realize it was because of how contrasting the habitat in this city is compared to others I’ve seen. Somehow, this quaint little suburban college town manages to artificially create a bustling and involved downtown district that is so successful, it has become a component of the city’s overall economic infrastructure. The “safety” I felt there would make anyone pay the premium to dine, shop, or even live in this ecosystem. Hell, it gave me a pep in my step, knowing the only thing lurking on these streets were punk teenagers (with shiestys, truies/empires, and frail egos) and the occasional homeless person.

Though, when the latter would happen, it was often a very polarizing experience. See, homeless people naturally form a spectrum. While places like Santa Maria display a wide variety of the homeless (ranging from newly homeless to just people trying to get by), SLO tends to fall on the darker side of that spectrum. When you see a homeless person in San Luis Obispo, it’s bizarre how harsh of a contrast naturally appears. Somehow, the environment itself depicts the horror of the gap between the bottom and the top.

As we approached our destination, my newfound confidence began to waver. I started to make out faces of people I knew—people I hadn’t seen in a long time, people I knew in a past life. I collected myself and made haste toward the noise. The shop was filled with a young crowd, people skateboarding outside, while bands set up for the next set. My partner and I now knew what must be done.

To Be Continued…