As many of you know, my wife and I are fascinated by the other residents of the building we live in. Some people may think that we exaggerate the exploits of our neighbors and the rotating band of drifters who gravitate to our building but I promise you that every word is true. For those of you new to our hobo phenomenon I’ll catch you up quickly:
Now that we’re all caught up I’ve got some big hobo news. On Saturday we noticed there was someone new drinking beer out by the garage in back. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if someone is back there on purpose or if they are just lost so we let him be. On Sunday my wife spotted him again, this time with our neighbors (who serve as the gatekeepers to the backyard hobo life). She was in a hurry so she just waved as she passed by but not before noticing that the new guy didn’t speak great English and the neighbors were trying to teach him some key English phrases. I asked her for more info:
What language does he speak
– I couldn’t tell.
What we’re they teaching him to say?
A few hours later I we we’re getting ready for bed when we heard the unmistakable sound of someone swearing their head off in in another language outside our window. We peeked outside and saw that it was the newest member of our backyard community. Our hobos must have gone continental because I think he was speaking French.
Welcome new French hobo. We look forward to sharing baguettes and Serge Gainsbourg karaoke with you. Please do not pee on our cars.
Artists rendition of our new hobo.
H/T on the photo to Not An Endive
UPDATE: It was brought to my attention that our newest friend may not be French but in fact a really drunk Italian hobo. In that case, change the flag and remove the beret in the picture above.