My job is ridiculous. I sit in my car all day along, beside the railroad tracks near a bridge that is under construction. Every once in awhile, perhaps twice a week, a train will need to come by. I just have to make sure that all the construction workers have themselves and their shit out of the way. Needless to say, I get bored. Lately, I've taken to sleeping. I show up, report on duty, wad up my hoodie like a pillow, kick the seat back as far as it will go, and crash out. The construction spot is in a pretty remote location, but occasionally a cop will stop by and tap on my window just to make sure that I'm not some white-collar stiff who decided to take his last lunch break, if you know what I mean. Once the law is reassured that I'm supposed to be there and not suicidal, they leave me alone. The only other people I see are hobos and bums, who use the railroad track as their own personal highway. Just the other day I was taking my morning nap when I heard a scuffle in the gravel outside my car. I opened my eyes and shot up from my reclined position. Standing just outside my door and looking in on me was this fucking hobo. He was just watching me, like I was some goddamn show on TV. I looked at him for a second, thinking that he would just go away. But he continued to stand there with a sick smile on his face. I yelled at him from behind the uncertain safety of my window glass:

"What the fuck are you doing? Get out of here!"

"Got-nee money I kin have?"

"No, goddamn it! You scared the piss out of me!"

He was a young looking guy, actually. Not the old-man-with-a-beard look that I usually associate with hobos. He had wild hair that skidded back across his forehead, with an intense passion for establishing a nice widow's peak before this guy reached the age of 30. He wore these immense sunglasses that, not so stylishly, hid the color of his eyes, which I was guessing to be, at least mostly, blood red. He was still smiling.

"Got-nee food in dere?"

Now he was looking around the interior of my car, and I was sure he would spot my Hostess Cupcakes before I could hide them.

"If I give you these will you just fucking leave?"

He nodded. I rolled down the window just enough to hand over my cream-filled chocolate goodness. He pulled up his pants and mumbled his thanks. Just then a train went by on the tracks, and he started trotting along side it. He grabbed the handle of a door on an open boxcar and lifted his lithe body up and in. It took me all afternoon to wipe the cum off the side of my car door.