For the third night the energy was flowing through my veins, I took a trip down to the docks. If there was anything going on around 4 a.m. there it had to be something fishy. You can imagine my surprise when I didn’t find anything fishy, but dishy.
I approached the Bharf Wharf and saw some shadows dancing around making some loud clanging noises. This looked like a crime if I’ve ever seen one, what normal hobo wouldn’t think that? There was screaming, flashing lights, sharp looking objects being tossed around and the sound of glass exploding. All elements of a standard double homicide. Turns out it was just a bundle of hobos cleaning their dishes, trimming their hair and getting cleaned up for a day of hog wrangling.
“We like to smell good for the hogs. It lulls them into a false sense of security which gives us more than ample time to betray that trust and wrangle them,” The head wrangler assured me.
Why would they do this so late at night? Because of long-standing traditions. “Our neighbors don’t like it when we smell all pretty and feel smooth like a baby, so we have to do this under the night sky when no one is around to witness. We cut our beards off in one piece so that we can just glue them on our face when we’re done and we get all dirty from wrangling hogs that our nice smells isn’t a problem,” says one of the wrangler.
And the dishes are just for breaking and cleaning. As dirty as we may be, we love our dishes dirty.