Hobosexuals Can Be Very Dangerous
So, I’m going to start this post off with a confession. When I was wandering the streets of New York City, I was (kind of) a hobosexual. I’d sleep with people to get a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and shelter from whatever.
I really wanted someone to save me from my dire straits. I did. And I wanted to show that I was capable of doing something good for them, even if it was only companionship and housekeeping.
I tried to provide whatever I could, even when I was only earning $10 an hour. I just didn’t make enough to afford a room for rent back then. It’s a problem that I thankfully overcame.
Before I had my own place, my dates pushed me away after a night or insisted I sleep only two nights a week. While I am still kind of upset that they didn’t trust me, the truth is that I now understand why they did that.
I mean, they didn’t want to have a squatter on their hands and let’s face it, hot girl begging for shelter will equal raised eyebrows. As a person who was a hobosexual (ish?) person, I had honest intentions.
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