I know y’all might not really think much of this, but the previous blog post before this was actually conceived and written before I actually found a house. I literally was like this while writing that blog post
So when I got this text,
Best believe I went to church.
Anyways, let’s continue with my banterful summer.
My Banterful Life: Summer Edition Chapter 2 (Hobos)
Now, as you may have noticed from some of my blog posts, every now and then there’s a talk about a hobo every now and then. With my most recent altercations with hobos, I figured I might as well just list all my altercations (excluding stories I’ve told before) from the most recent, to probably the first incident I acknowledged.
In general, hobos and I have a complex relationship. It’s like they usually almost always gravitate towards me. Some of my friends have told me I look gullible. Others said I look highly approachable. Either ways, for whatever reason there is, if there’s someone who gets approached a lot, it’s me. And I try my best to be nice to them. I really do.
This is my mantra anytime I see a hobo around begging for money.
Usually, whenever I’m proficient enough, I take a hobo out to a meal and McDonalds and talk with him. However, when a hobo starts an interaction with me, it ends badly.
I just dunno why.
So in order of most recent hobo altercations:
During my spell of homelessness, (about 2 weeks ago to be precise) I decided to go stay with another friend of mine while my quest to find a home continued. My friend lived in a new place so I had to Google where he was and started towards his apartment.
I had been playing games on my phone for too long so my phone’s battery life wouldn’t last long enough to get me to my friend’s place if I left my Google Map app open, so I decided to study the path well and ingrain his street name and number in my head before turning off my phone to conserve energy.
I walked quite a distance and just as I turned into a new street, there was a hobo in front of me, walking in the same direction as me (albeit a few feet away from me). When I saw him, I was like
At least, he was in front of me. All I did was pray he didn’t turn back and start talking to me.
I had walked about three blocks (with the hobo still in front of me), scanning the streets to make sure they were exactly as I’d studied them on my phone so I won’t get lost, when all of a sudden, the hobo walked off the pathway and veered into the road.
I kept walking straight, scanning street signs as I walked right past this hobo. As I’d passed him, he began to scream “Stop following me you fucking creep.”
I turned back to look at him and wondered why he’d make such an incredulous statement. Like fam, I scanned him from head to toe, looked at myself and wondered who the creep really was.
For the rest of the walk until I got to my friend’s place, this hobo followed me and mumbled “Fucking creep!” until I got into my friend’s house.
A few days before I went to go live with my friend, another one of my friends was in town and she wanted me to come chill with her and her coworkers, so I obliged. The only problem (I didn’t tell her) I had with going to see her was that she wanted us to hangout in downtown San Francisco. Downtown SF is a lovely part of town, but it’s got an awful lotta hobos in there. Since I hadn’t (voluntarily) been downtown since Valentine’s Day, I was like fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen?
I’ll tell you the worst.
So I took the train and got downtown and was waiting on my final bus to take me to where she would be. Everything was going well so far and even though I’d come across a few hobos, they didn’t acknowledge me, so all was well. Since I felt like singing a bit loud, I walked a few feet away from the bus stop, plugged in my earphones, and began listening and quietly singing to my music while I waited for my bus.
Mid chill, a hobo approached the people near the bus stop. Ordinarily I’d started praying that he wouldn’t approach me. But with all the people there, I figured that before he’d be done talking to all those people, enough time would’ve elapsed for the bus to arrive and I’d continue smooth sailing. Besides, I made sure I didn’t look in that direction because I’ve come to realize that hobos usually approach me because we established eye contact. So as long as I looked away and minded my own business, I would be fine.
So there I was, looking everywhere but where the hobo was, singing and hitting high notes my voice couldn’t obviously hit. But it didn’t matter anyways since I wasn’t singing loud enough for people to hear me. Every now and then, I felt the need to turn and look at the people at the bus stop because I was experiencing that sensation where you can feel someone looking at you. I kinda guessed who it would be, but I shrugged it off for as long as I could until I succumbed and looked in the direction I’d been straying away from, only to make STRONG eye contact with the hobo.
I quickly looked away and started singing and closing my eyes, acting like nothing had happened. The next minute I opened my eyes and tried to peep in that direction to see if all was well, I realized that the hobo started walking in my direction as if to say
When he finally gets to my face, he says “Finally, I’ve been looking for someone to talk to about some weird things I’ve noticed. Once he said this, I lowered the volume (but didn’t take off my earphones. You really don’t want to give certain hobos attention sometimes) and decided to listen to what he had to say
Now I don’t remember all he said since it was a lot of the most confusing shit I’d ever heard in my life, but here’s one of the quotes I heard.
“Is it just me, or the white Mexicans in Mexico have a hard time speaking Mexican?”
Initially when he said this (along with all the other shit he was saying/asking), I was still trying to understand what he meant, but when he repeated the same line of statements/questions 3 times in a row, I knew I shouldn’t have bothered lowering my music.
I was about to totally ignore him when he walked a bit closer to me and I could actually feel him breathing on my chest and then he said (quoting him verbatim)
“If you can show me proof that you’re not doing anything wrong then I’ll let you go and if you don’t do so, I’m going to call 911 and let them take you to prison. My brother was a Navy seals so show me proof you’re not doing anything wrong.”
He repeats this again, emphasizing my need to show him proof I’m doing nothing wrong and I’m about to increase the volume of my music when he says one more thing before walking back to the bus stop. He said/asked
“I wonder why there aren’t enough black people in the prison. Always committing crimes and shit you know? It makes me sick.”
Then he walked away.
Fam, I was confused outta my mind and just decided to go back to my music. For a few minutes, all was well until the hobo, standing at the bus stop, starts yelling his same line of questioning about white Mexicans and some other stuff. He also mentioned that my singing and the new music of this generation fucking sucked (this one stung a bit cus I’m not that awful at singing). He kept shouting until the bus came and as I was taking a seat, with the hobo yelling right behind me and boarding the bus with me, he decided to say the thing about black people in prisons.
Fortunately, I’d taken a seat and a black guy rushed him and told him to shut the fuck up. The hobo kept talking and raised his voice, and the black guy was ready to give this hobo a black eye when people held him back and I guess he realized that the hobo was kinda looney.
In the end, a bus inspector was on the bus and called the police who proceeded to take him off the bus.
I went to see a friend at a famous chill spot in San Francisco called Dolores Park. I was there talking with her, enjoying the weather and all that good stuff, when I noticed an American football rolling downhill, about to roll into the road. So I went, picked it up, looked for the people throwing it and flung it back to them.
They thanked me, and as I was sitting down, a hobo (who happened to be playing with them) threw the football near my side again and I decided to be a good sport and went to pick it up.
As I’d picked it up and was walking to give the ball back to the hobo, he started approaching me like he wanted to tackle me. I guess he wanted me to play with him and stuff, but I really wasn’t about to do that, so I stretched out my hand and tried to give him the ball back, but he wouldn’t take it. I looked at him like
I flung it back to the other peeps since appaz, the hobo didn’t want the ball anymore. I then went back to my friend and kept on enjoying time with her, and for like 20 solid minutes, all was well.
After like 20 minutes had elapsed, there the football was, rolling onto the road again.
I decided to go after it and actually kinda ran since the ball was rolling pretty fast.
As I was nearing the ball, I heard someone’s footsteps loudly thumping on the grass and realized that the hobo was chasing me. In a split second, I had to decide between getting the ball or just leaving it and letting the hobo go chase the ball wherever it landed.
I chose to get the ball.
As I got the ball, I realized that this dude increased his speed and was now really running to go tackle me. My fight or flight senses kicked in and I immediately started running away from this hobo.
To cut the long story short, I was there running around like an idiot with a hobo chasing me in the park while onlookers just…looked. Eventually I came to my senses and wondered why the fuck I was running around and letting myself get chased. So I just stopped running and threw the ball at him and told him I didn’t wanna play anymore.
He picked it up and tried dropping it at my feet, but I just walked over it and thankfully, he left me alone.
That’s pretty much half of my altercations with hobos. I’d go on, but right now, I’m kinda feeling lazy, so let’s call it a day. Follow @TheOiz and @AboutUseful and have a splendid day!