No Room at the Inn by Caffeine Jones

Thissere Clownhouse is known for being a place where people can get some food, or pay $5 for a night on the “Traveler Couch,” or get help with their bike. There is usually some Commie Vegetarian or another here, willing to help out a Fellow Traveler in need. But last night, there was no room at the inn.
It was about 11 pm, and my 9-month-old woke up hollering when someone started hammering on the door (the dog, of course added to the din, the way they do). I went partway down the stairs to investigate, and Bizzy answered the door. It was some dude and his pregnant girlfriend, just got kicked out of the place they were staying (and it was one c-c-c-cold mother-truckin' night, my friends), and he said he was friends with Dingo, and could they come in for the night?
Well, my first thought was, why not? It was bone-chilling cold out. My 2nd thought was that the boy was still hollering, and I needed to go rock him back to sleep. My next thought was that sane people usually pre-arrange these things at a decent hour, and these guys were likely to be the equipment-stealing type (I hate myself for being so judgmental, but I used to be too nice, and it was a mistake). Bizzy mentioned that Will, who doesn't even live here, had said something about the dude being 86'ed from our house (????). Dingo was at work, but if HE knew the guy, and could vouch for him, then it would probably be ok. I sat down with Junior, and thought about how to handle this.
I called down the stairs that if they could be patient, I would call Dingo when the baby settled down. Well, the guy decided to call himself, and asked my roommate for the number. Now, 11pm is a busy time at the bar where Dingo works, and a person's wife/family member/best friend can get away with calling at a time like that, but bars are LOUD, and cordless phones are CRAPPY, and if you've ever tried to call a place like that with a detailed problem, you know what I mean. So I called down again (re-waking the baby, of course), that if the dude called, Dingo would definitely say no. I didn't want the pregnant lady to spend the night in the cold, so I wanted them to go over to the bar in person (9 blocks), and check in with the man whose house they wanted to stay at.
Well, the guy was impatient, and somehow, it happened that he was gonna use my roommate's cell phone and call from the porch, so it wouldn't bother me ((????)). Add THAT to a loud bar with a cordless phone. Sheesh.
I was liking this guy less and less, and somehow doubted that my husband (not a patient man,) had ever kicked it with him. But I was concerned about the pregnant lady (We gotta look out for each other, eh, girls?), and my baby was finally snoring (so cute!), so I went down to see, and told them just to go talk to Dingo. And then they left. And then I called, and Dingo said he'd be expecting them.
Then around 3 am, when the baby always wants to nurse, I was obliging him, and listening to the wind, and noticing that it was freezing IN the house, and wondering about the pregnant lady, and if she was safe and warm, when I heard a man yelling outside. It sounded a lot like front-porch-dude, shouting “Alright, f*ck you, then, b*tch, if you wanna be that way, FINE!” and stuff like that. I was dying to go to the window, and see if it was him, but the little guy had me by the boob, so I stayed put.
When Dingo got home, he said they never came by.
Then I got pissed off at that lady. I railed at the dishes I was washing that I hoped she learned a lesson, and didn't put herself in that kind of position anymore...that she had a huge responsibility inside her, and I've BEEN homeless with a baby before, and so have a number of my friends, and dammit, you DO what you have to do, and you get your sh*t together, and YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE F*CKING GOING TO SLEEP AT NIGHT!
And then today, my daughter told me about an advent tradition in Mexico, where people dress up like Mary and Joseph, and go from house to house, and get told there's no room, until they get to the last house, where there's a feast. I really want to be that feast house, you know? I hope that baby's ok.