I stared down a hobo.
It was about 4 o’clock in the dead heat of the day when I looped back around the Starbucks to enjoy my iced coffee. “There’s a tree giving shade, I will park my car underneath and enjoy my treat.”
There was a hobo sitting underneath the tree, sitting on his chair cross-legged and looking to the distance.
I park. He slowly glances towards me then cautiously returns his sight. I want to get on his vibe so I start to look at where he’s gazing towards. I realize he’s not looking at anything so I start to eat my pecan pie and iced coffee. I take a bite, thru the window the hobo can see. I chew and take a sip, this guy thinks I don't see his eyeballs move. I take a bite and look up. This time I chew slowly while I stare into his blue eyes. Awkward moment is awkward as he makes a crazy calk eyed look to the right. With one eye squinted and the other looking the other way, I see the white in his left eye. He looks well rested.
Seeing his head turn puts him into a quick perspective of a hobo and a flood of thoughts fill my brains. “If this guy had a rifle, his face would look like that if he was aiming.” “His legs are old like his bike.” “I wonder what his story is.” “Is this guy tripping, or what?!” “Nah, he can’t afford PCP.”
As I refocus on him my I lift my head up a bit and take a sip of coffee. “Who told them to put sugar in this?”
Back to square one where his space was taken by some guy wearing a White Sox hat. I smile this time. His brow lowers. I take it back. I look at him and take a bite. We lock eyes. We stare at each other for a bit. Then, without much else left in him. He makes a /-: and looks diagonally down.
I felt bad, I ruined his crazy hobo trip.
/-:
