Hobo Confessions #7 - Thou shalt not touch me in my sleep

January 30th -

jan 30th snip.png

Up bright and early. Watched some crazy movie about a guy who can control technology with his mind. Pita Pit is EPIC. Basically Pita-potle. Marion Transit Center is gritty, but moves smoothly. Megabus is late, and comfortable. John ------- is an asshole. He spouts racist, secular, ignorant speech, while smashing 20 dollars of microwave pasta. He denied me the couch, and has me sleep in his room, while wearing his boxers.

He has the worst sleep apnea I've ever heard. I lost count of how many times he stopped breathing. He sees the world as Jew+Christian vs. Muslim. He says he is gay because he was sexually abused in the military. I think he's gay naturally, feels guilty because of his faith, and now blames the world. "Many gay men were sexually abused, and ended up liking it." I've never been sexually abused, but this sounds like justifications and self-denial. The tour of Orlando was Cool, besides the doomsaying. I scheduled 2 airbnbs while he snored himself to death.

I said my farewells to James and gang, including his hot blonde nerd girlfriend who I will miss so much, and made my way to Downtown Tampa, bumming a ride from James. I ordered the "local special" at Pita Pit, and downed it absurdly. I think it was mostly sauce.

I was quite early for the Megabus, and it was quite late when it arrived. Gave me time to watch people argue with each other at the bus terminal. Felt cozy though. Cozy enough for a selfie I guess.

I was just happy to set that pack down and listen to some music. Y'know, if the wifi didnt block Pandora and all forms of internet stream. Scenery it is. Sitting on the second deck is where it's at.

John is both the first self-hating gay person I've ever met,and the first name we will have to censor. I feel bad for John. I wish he could let himself be happy. In the moment, I couldn't wait to get away from his hatin' ass. Not sure how to relate this one, so I'll just make a list to save time.

He accepts couchsurfers, though his roommate doesnt like them. So I had to make up a spot to sleep on his bedroom floor. Still, thankful for the roof over my head.
He only wore boxers at home, and complained about having to wear them. Now I'm slightly uncomfortable.
He only talked about religion and politics, topics of which he had supreme knowing. Now I'm annoyed.
He chewed all 20 dollars worth of those microwave pasta bowls with his mouth open, while telling me a story. I'm questioning ever leaving home at this point.

I am indeed comfortable with gay men, you would be too if you grew up in Cleveland. I am not comfortable sleeping near people who sexually repress themselves into frustration. Human urges get real, and I have that boyish charm.

Tuck my hunting knife underneath my turtle pillow, schedule some lodging, and pray for my butthole.

This is where my adventure in the world's longest strip mall known as Orlando, Florida begins.

(they could post this sign every 50 feet throughout all of Orlando and be accurate.)

Here are links to the confessions if you want to catch up! Follow along if you're enjoying, I would appreciate it greatly.