The answer is class. Well, historically I believe the answer is that hobos are migratory workers, but for today's blog I rather use my own definitions. When I think of hobo I think of a scuzzy old person standing in front of a fire in an oil drum. When I think of a homeless person, well I just imagine an unfortunate soul without a home.
Outside the El stop in my neighborhood I noticed a reoccurring character. His skin is the deepest black and a thick spray of braids spring from the top of his head like a fancy fountain. This man I speak of lounges upon a full sized mattress in various locales. By various locales, I mean, one day instead of in front of the bakery, across from the El station, his mattress would be next to the dumpster on the opposite side of the street. Some days him and his mattress are nowhere to be found.
He just reeks of regality, and I'm utterly intrigued. With shoes placed neatly to the side, he idles on the mattress like
the king of the pride passing the hours in the hot savannah. He's beautiful, and I often wonder what his story is. I've got my theories.
What I don't quite understand is how the mattress stays so clean and where it's going. I mean does he carry it around with him? He's a big man, but it's a really big mattress! Also, I've decided that homeless man nor hobo is appropriate; he's totally a vagabond.
I wish you guys could see him.
Go check out today's post @ A Softer World, it is lovely. I want to be best friends with both of those people. They are the right amount of nostalgia, sarcasm, intellect, and raciness. Seriously if I was Canadian I would probably be creepy and "happen" to frequent their local hang-outs...
Have a lovely weekend all.