Musings from the homeless guy

The homeless man outside our office comes and goes.

The other day he and his girlfriend (who sometimes wears a bikini, although we never understand why, it appears she is the definition of wardrobe malfunction, though I think she's just trying to get her game on) were having what we like to call "a house party" on our street corner. She was giving the homeless guy a haircut. It was actually kind of tender... in a creepy-those-poeple-are-way-too-close-to-each-other-given-how-rarely-they-shower kind of way.

When he's gone I always joke that someone else will need to compliment me to keep my esteem high. The other day I walked by the reception's desk and she looked up and said "You're pretty." To which I responded. "Why thank you. And, that sure wasn't awkward."

But, Daniel (aka "the homeless guy") came back. And, so now Catherine no longer feels the need to compliment me. Albeit, sometimes she still calls me a "classy hoochie", which she swears is the sincerest form of flattery, but mainly when only when I wear a skirt. And, that RARELY happens because I still can't seem to shave my legs without them looking like I am intentionally a cutter.

Anyhoooooo... I went to get my daily coke(s) a few minutes ago. And, I couldn't avoid meeting face-to-face with Daniel, because he was laying in the doorway.

Homeless Guy: You are late.
Me: For what?
Homeless Guy: I have been sitting out here for 2 hours just to get a look at you.
Me: Oh brother.

I go inside to get my beverage of champions from Chu. Then I go back outside.

Homeless Guy: Nice shape baby!
Me: pardon?
Homeless Guy: I said, NICE SHAPE. Don't worry pretty girl it's a compliment. It's not nasty.

Please note. Said homeless guy has no teeth, and sometimes no pants either. Though luckily today he was donning a pair. And, for this, I was grateful. But still REALLY creeped out.