SAN DIEGO — She first came to Park Boulevard for the money and the snacks. A friend told her there was a place they could go with free fruit gummies, granola bars, and rice crispy treats — and she could make $20 if she answered some survey questions. It sounded like a dream. GB had been spending her nights crinkling through garbage bags for bottles and cans. Aluminum got $1.66 per pound; to make $20, she had to collect hundreds of empties. As far as she understood, on Park Boulevard, all she had to do was show up. One morning in May, she and her friend walked over from the tent city where they lived.
The place was a research office: sterile, with frosted glass. Sure enough, there was good, strong coffee and a little basket of snacks. She was surprised, though, when the researcher who’d been interviewing her asked if he could draw her blood. She was 47. She’d been using meth since 2021, but she was terrified of needles. She snorted her speed, never did heroin, never injected anything at all. She thought about saying she needed the bathroom and sneaking off. But she liked Carlos Vera, the guy who was asking. He was gentle, and talked to her like a real human being, unlike so many people, who treated her like a bug, like something dirty to be rid of.
