Tag: Obispo

Floridan Follies, Hobos and Retirees

When I use the word Hobo here, it’s by far a completely different definition than the Obispo Hobo. Florida Hobos aren’t actually homeless although they might appear as such. These particular hobos have traded in their luxurious shopping carts and hiking backpacks for a bike or even a walking stick. The Florida hobo almost never wears clothes, if any, trading outerwear for darkened brown, leathery skin just as worthy as a cowhide is to a pair of fine shoes.

The strong scent of coconut oil and suntan lotion replaces the usual noxious stench of body odor coming from the typical Hobo. These hobos play in the day as if there is no tomorrow to only retire to a fancy hotel, condominium or retirement retreat in the evenings for a little needed R&R.

Women of all body types, but mostly ones that would make any self conscious girl feel better, slather on sunscreen smack dab in the middle of the beach as if no one is watching, carefully applying the creamy concoction to every single part of their bodies by merely shifting their suit to one side or the other. In my opinion, it might have been easier done and perhaps with more privacy in the confines of their hotel rooms. However, this is not the way in which it is done here, and for reasons I haven’t figured out being that I’m the only person fully clothed.

The aging Florida Hobo seems to have lost all sense of awareness when it comes to modisty. The men ride their senior bicycles in nothing but wind shorts just shy of being daisy dukes. The sheer ability to keep their jewelry tucked up is a complete mystery, but one I’m unwilling to investigate further. The granny’s have slightly more self awareness than the retiree male by wearing a few more articles of clothing, but only because it’s prohibited for women to go around topless. They have traded lofty cardigans and floral dresses for short mumus and skirted swimsuits. They sport those suits like Sundays best while walking small, manicured dogs down the lush sidewalks covered in flowering hibiscus bushes.

Lizards run about as if they own the places and some as large as small cars. If anyone could think a rat could make me scream, they haven’t witnessed my encounters with iguanas. They are horrific events that nevertheless leave other people around me stumped by my inability to stop screaming like a complete and utter psycho. Especially, if that particular, horrifying Iguana, does nothing but be the lizard it is by merely staring at the screaming freak in his solid, unmoving stance.

There are other predators here than just an Iguana. Large pterodactyls that everyone here calls a pelican, swoop and dip over my head as if I might be their next snack while beach hobos appear unaware of their pesky existence. Fortunately for me, I have an umbrella which completely tricks this bizarre Dino bird into thinking I’m furniture, furthermore eliminating me as prey. Thankfully, I’ve been spared.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been spared from viewing the young girl in her late twentieth who decided to pretend she were a bond girl by bending over abruptly in the midst of a crashing wave to dip her brassy yellow hair into the ocean and then flip her head back in a rendition of an old Bo Derek move from 5.0. She took that move as a que to look for anyone watching. Pleased with herself, the young woman decided to turn from the salty heaven and run, bouncing her body around as if she had just become Pamela Anderson in Baywatch, giving all of unlucky spectators a few laps to gather it all in.

The other strange folly comes from the strongest urge to take a nap or pass out right where I’m sitting as if I had been slipped a roofy in my morning coffee although I would have been the only person to do that and, I certainly did not.

For now, I shall return to reading my book and keeping a watchful eye on the Pterodactyls I know want to devour me whole all the while burning my skin as if I were toast.

Thank you for reading ❤️

Obispo Chronicles

Hobos.

By definition, Hobo is a homeless person, tramp or transient. Although, I’ve never heard anyone in a nane calling fight use hobo in place of tramp. However, I might remember that definition about the Hobo word. And, try it out one day if I just so happen to run into a situation where I might need to throw out “You trashy Tramp” and incert “You trashy Hobo”.

In light of a Hobo, I’ve made several observations this week, which brings me to this very thoughtful conclusion. There are several types of Hobo varieties. Don’t be alarmed.

Today, for example was a young Hobo giving himself a sobriety test across the crosswalk. Clearly, a good samaritan. He took it upon himself, to check his ability to drive his shopping cart in a safe manner without having to be pulled over or ticketed. We call him the go getter.

Then you have the out right crazy, that’s the one who is either male or female and chooses to randomly talk gibberish to no one, or anyone, but seemingly no one in particular. They are often dirtier, smell and stay to themselves. Usually they are seen with a deck of cards for some rumy or solitaire.

Next in line, The day jobber. This is the man or woman, but women particularly like this one best, unless of course it’s a dude with a cute dog. They sit at intersections, stop signs, red light and under passes with signs announcing some mean to their end, covid, divorce, lost job, traveling needs gas. They usually appear clean, and have shoes of a decent nature, indicating their day job Hobo is paying off.

In this demographic, there are mostly white or Caucasian hobos. I have seen no Asian, Hispanic or Black hobos. And, although they exist I’m sure the Asian hobo is as rare as a unicorn. But, then again, I don’t actually know.

Back to the variety. The mid class hobo. This is the one who has been lucky enough to score a shopping cart in which he or she can shove their rolling house down sidewalks and dead center in the street to only wave a fist if you politely honk for him to move because he has forgotten the roadway isn’t a good place to stop and trim your toes nails.

The upper Hobo not only has a shopping cart but the luxury of a county issue blue or green tent. He or she keeps it tucked inside the shopping cart for easy travel or has set up under an over pass, near some orange trees in case of a light snack later. This hobo is very territorial and doesn’t particularly want lesser hobos entering their “gated” community.

Sad sap. This is the hobo that puts on the most pathetic face, the one where they appear beaten down by the hand of God and shunned from ever entering heaven. They hope to guilt you for their sad shunning and foil a 5 spot out of you before that light turns green. The typically have a card board sign with an equally pathetic message proclaiming some horrible circumstance in which they have been given the worst possible outcome in the history of the world. They vary from a little dirty to ąlot dirty and even clean. It’s a crap shoot.

Trash master. This hobo is the one who pretends to be a city worker with a walking stick and garbage bag. He or she, mostly he, picks up trash while giving merry salutations to drivers whilst picking up trash and cleaning for some unknown reason. They usually wear suspenders and have a shopping cart or wagon hidden near by.

All of these hobos are ones I have witnessed personally and in multiple settings so that I could make a pattern in their behavior enough to formulate this post. These are not figments of my imagination but real hobos. I have not posted pictures as not to invade privacy but if in the future I should have the permission of thus said Hobo, I shall post a photo for viewing.

There are many more hobos and some in a genre all their own but I do find them fascinating, especially the good samaritan type. I equally like to be a good samaritan and give them the obligatory guilt money just in case it’s Jesus undercover or they actually need the money for food or some good weed. Either way, I do my part whilst observing.

I hope you enjoyed reading about Hobos and will join me in the future for further things of interest.

Thank you for reading ❤️