Romantic Serenade

It was pretty late last night when we took the dogs for a walk before bed, so no one and nothing much was out and about. No one except the drunk wanderer that was underneath my bedroom window screaming the night before some nonsense about his underwear.

It must be getting warmer.

Last night, he moved his concert up to the popular homeless park. We were a good 3 blocks away, both east and north and yet could still hear his poignant slurs. Naturally, we went for a closer listen. As he was rifling through the concrete trash bin, a permanent fixture at the park, he would periodically find something to get excited about... He would shake his treasures high above his head and let out a hoot and holler. It sounded like a cross between Amy Winehouse and a dying dog: "Whooooooooiiiiiiaaaaaoooooowwww!"

I can't imagine I would have found so many treasures in the garbage myself that night, but perhaps I am a little too discriminating.

He kept this up until the cops came and diverted his attention to a new moving treasure, us! We walked briskly home and fortunatley he was too drunk to keep up, though bless him he sure did try!