My Crimson Hexagon

You know what's grosser than gross? When you see a bum spill glistening, rusty orange vomit all over the place.
Sure, people puke, right? All the time! No big deal- but right in the middle of the afternoon on the side of a busy street, even though there is a perfectly good, urine stenched alley ten feet away? And he was STANDING UP! Knees locked, arms hanging at his sides, he just leaned forward a bit and casually horked, like his body was so used to this kind of business that it didn't need to bother with any spastic histrionics. AHHH! I can't believe I watched it! I am not going to eat for a week.
I used to see this guy around alot when I lived near there, actually. He would be in the currency exchange when I would go there to cash my paychecks, which I thought was interesting. What the heck was he doing at the currency exchange, buying stamps? It seemed pretty ridiculous at first. I mean, when you think bum, you think crazy weirdo with no friends or family or anything- like a decaying, ambling mound of hair from the floor of a barbershop. But maybe this guy was buying stamps, and he was going to go and write a letter on the back of a box of doughnuts to his daughter who's in college in Miami or something. Makes you wonder about bums, right? Everybody's got a story, but I bet it doesn't get much more interesting than what somebody's gone through to make them just give up on everything.