After living in the heart of New York City for a mere two days, I have discovered an interesting fact. There is such a thing as "rich hobos
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((ooc: From living in NYC for so many years I've stopped caring. The only time I give them something is if I see a mother with a baby and it's obvious they're doing terribly.))
See, if it's an obviously starving person, where you can see their bones and shit, of course I'll give them something. But when they're just dirty...Hell, I could go roll around in the dirt and I'd look like a hobo.
((OOC: Saem. Oh god, the saem. I mean, these days? I give a donation to an actual establishment. Not to panhandlers, or anyone. At least you know its actually GOING to where it needs to go, you know?))
I think I'm at fault there. He reeked of aftershave and I was just looking at his filthy appearance.
No matter. I have a new mission to track this bastard down and rob him.
Although I will perch myself at the same location and ambush him. Robbing him and beating him till he can't breathe are the things I planned out on that.
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I try to avoid confrontation as much as possible.
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Didn't I tell you to rob a hobo? I SO TOLD YOU. Hah. They're tricky bastards.
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No kidding. Now I'm tempted to club and pocket these bastards instead of ignoring them on the streets.
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See, if it's an obviously starving person, where you can see their bones and shit, of course I'll give them something. But when they're just dirty...Hell, I could go roll around in the dirt and I'd look like a hobo.
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I think I'm at fault there. He reeked of aftershave and I was just looking at his filthy appearance.
No matter. I have a new mission to track this bastard down and rob him.
Reply
Reply
Reply
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Although I will perch myself at the same location and ambush him. Robbing him and beating him till he can't breathe are the things I planned out on that.
Reply
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