My friend George (one of the many George's I know) lives in a high rise building in downtown Chicago. Once, Eric and I went down there to see him, and we walked into a hobo fight. When I say walked into a hobo fight, I mean we walked into a Homeless Battle Royal.
There aren't that many homeless people on the streets of Chicago, say one every block in the main loop of downtown, and that's it. So, the fact that we walked into a group of 20 or so battling it out was pretty amazing in itself.
What were they battling over? One hobo wanted another hobo's pants. How this would somehow involve the 18 other men in the fight - I don't want to know and we didn't stay long enough to ask. We apparently had not been drinking yet that night and therefore still had two brain cells left to rub together and therefore got out of there fast. Or at least Eric wasn't - he knows as well as I do that when I drink I put on my Mischief Hat and then go balls-deep into the nearest Clusterfuck I can find.
Plus Eric knows that I don't want to see a homesless person without pants on EVER AGAIN.
Eric and I were a little freaked out, but George wasn't phased. He said the hobo fights should be part of the advertisement for when a house goes up for sale "Don't want cable? No worries, just peer out your window to the street below and watch hobos go nucken futz over the strangest shit! This luxury is included in the selling price!"
And to think - we were sucked into the suburbs by the Realtor telling us that it was a safe neighborhood with an urban feel - what fools we were! Especially tonight, since nothing seems to be worth watching on cable.
...I wonder if George is up for company.
Pure entertainment lol!
ReplyDeleteWhy would they battle it out over a pair of pants? Weird lol.
Hmmm, I can imagine them in another fight for the best cardboard box to sleep on!
...when I drink I put on my Mischief Hat and then go balls-deep into the nearest Clusterfuck I can find.
ReplyDeleteThat made me snort my morning coffee.
I don't usually giggle evilly out loud when I read. I did today.
ReplyDelete*checks off the item "Use Balls-Deep on your blog" from her LifeLong To Do List*
ReplyDeleteAhhh that just makes me proud!
Woo hoo mission accomplished!
ReplyDeleteI have no idea why or what kind of drug the word "pants" is 'street' for...
ReplyDeletesweet i remember that! those outdoorsmen still do get into trouble from time to time.
ReplyDeletethe best part about a good hobo fight is that there is usually a mediator in there somewhere. some poor drunk with half a bottle of mad dog trying to share that as insentive for the other guys to stop threatening to get stabby with each other.
i do love the city.
Ahhh the mediator. True. There always is one.
ReplyDelete[...] went to go visit my friend George (yes, the same George of “hobo-fight” fame) and we parked our car in a parking garage (because George lives in downtown Chicago, and [...]
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