I will never forget the first thing I saw when I wake up in the morning on that unfortunate day.

It was a puppy licking my face with his fronts legs arched outside like if they broke.

I sat while trying to compose myself with my current situation, the puppy was clumsy tried to get between my legs to get some warm, I guess. It was raining, not massively, but it was annoyingly persistent.

Where am I? I looked around only to find trash bags and a bundle of wet cardboard.

I sat alone with the puppy in a silent alley; only the shadow of people busily went by between the building could be seen.

I looked at my hands and saw that they were rough and with a lot of scars. I looked at a nearby puddle being as gentle as possible not to disturb the now sleeping puppy and took a look at myself.

Yep, I was a hobo alright. Young, ugly, plenty of scars all over the face (one particular nasty between the eyes and across the front in a / shape) and I bet that it is the same picture all over this body. Probably on his early twenties. Dark brown hair with bright green eyes. I lifted all my three or four layers of clothes to see my physic. It was awful, a lot of scars and not an ounce of muscular strength. Yeah, this body has a six-pack but is because he's so thin that the skin sticks to the muscle. At least I was tall. This body was at least 1.85mts-ish (6 feet-ish).

*Sigh*Of all dreams, I get to be a Hobo? Last time was an Astronaut for fuck sake...Maybe is a retribution thing? Like they gave me something pleasant only to punish me later.

I grumble to myself like a proper hobo should do, and finally decided to get in action.

First things first, I should do a recon of the environment. The only thing I know for now is that:

1. This place is a city.

2. It was an English speaking city, since this body talks in English. (Sometimes I think in English, and the body speaks in another language, the same for hearing another people talking, I have a delay while the translation is going in my brain).

3. I was not in a futuristic setting since I saw cars and the clothes (albeit a little bit old) from me seemed reasonable and not too much vintage feeling. Or maybe this is a hobo trend? Further investigation required.

I needed more information. I looked first between the bundle of wet cardboard and found a page of a relatively new newspaper. 10/15/2002. Shit, I missed the 9-11, it could be cool to prevent that or participate in the rescue of the people there. I have never been a hero before. Well, I guess there are other opportunities.

I kept reading and saw the title of the newspaper, NY times. Nice! At least in a first world country and such an important place! Finally, something good! I made a small excited shout while pumping my fist into the air and the little puppy woke up, liked my hand that was on the ground and continued sleeping.

That woke me up of my dreams of grandeur and took me back to my "reality" and realize that I need a plan of short term action. I need food and shelter for the puppy and me. Why? Because I like dogs and this puppy is the only company I would ever need. Besides, I don't want a lot to meager with people.

I searched in my pocket and didn't found anything. Only an old hobo knife with dulled knife ends engraved with a stylish quote, "For your journey."

Great, a side quest right from the beginning! 

 Shit, there it goes my gamer syndrome again. I need to remember yet back, my goals: shelter and food. Anything else is optional at this point.

Think... NY city, after the 9/11. A lot of people are scared; they want entertainment to not think about things. Superbowl was in February...what else there it is in the US? Baseball! The World Series of Baseball starts in 4 days! And I know who is going to win. Why? Because if you are 24/7 on a bed, you can only increase your knowledge in all the things I found interesting. At one point, my brain insisted that I needed to study this kind of things. It was after my 3rd or so dream, I think. It was before going Indian that's for sure.

But there was a tiny little problem. Sports betting is not allowed in most of the US states until 2018 because of the PASPA. The only state that is legal to make a bet in Nevada. Way across the country. I roughly need two and a half days to get there by train-hopping, but do I want to risk it? With a young puppy under my care? A lot of things could go wrong. 

Nah, I need to get some money before the world baseball starts so I can make a bet.

Shit, well. No free food from there until then.   

Well, I will go to the next best thing.

With the destination in my mind, I grabbed the puppy and put in inside my rough but warm jacket, and also I grabbed the wet bundle of cardboard. I stood with difficulty since I was sitting for a long time.

I began to walk outside the alley, and I was already on my destination! That was a lot of luck! It seems that I was on the Old Kingsbridge Road alley, and I was just right beside my goal: Bronx Zoo.

Why the fuck would I wanted to go to a large zoo? Easy. Free food. From where? The vendors? HA! You wish. They are evil incarnated. They would not throw away any food; they would even sell their putrid food for a discount. 

No, there only a few places where you can beg for food here. Right beside the entrance of the zoo, if you are a charmer or a little bit good looking people will sympathize with you. But those spots were contested, and usually, if the police don't know you, they were going to kick your ass from there no question asked. If you are unlucky, you are going to get kicked by fellows hobos. Yes, they are territorial like a pack of wolves only that they are dirtier.

The only place where is no competition is the place I'm aiming for then.

The bins right after the entrance. The probability of left-over food in a lot lower than the bins near street vendors or the big containers that the zoo throw away at night. 

So what would you find there? Easy. The left-over animal feed from the people that buy inside.

Not even hobos would eat that food, not with plenty of fast-food restaurants who like to throw away their food. But I'm trying to survive, not kill myself with cancer packed food.

So I mentalized myself and began walking towards there. A few security guards were already eying me for a slim chance that I tried to enter the zoo.

I ignored their stares and began to rummage to one of the four bins near the entrance. I tried to be as quickly and safely as possible since the security guards wouldn't mind if you look in other containers, but not the ones of the entrance. That would damage the perfect image of the zoo.

Wanting to be fast is one thing, but being fast is another thing entirely. Theoretically, you know how to search thru the garbage, but searching thru it is so different!

You need to be careful about the sharp objects that some people trow, like plastic knife, aluminum broken cans with their sharps ends, even a hard plastic cover will damage your fragile fingers. I was lucky since this body has thick skin to resist most cuts, but I should be more careful in the future.

After I searched for 5 minutes, I was able to recover one bag of Zebra food almost whole, a half bag of Lemur food, a big empty 2L plastic bottle and two small cups of yogurt. And with the right timing, since a security guy was approaching me.

I said in his direction, "Okey okay I'm going! I'm going!"

I took both bags and both cups to my jacket pockets, took the plastic bottle with one hand while holding the wet bundle of cardboard and begin to wander, searching for a nearby dry place to lay down.

I walked almost ten blocks and found one abandoned storefront with a cheap steel gate that I was able to pry open with my hands from the side without breaking it.

The front door was still locked, and I had no intention to open it since that would be transpassing. Most cops would let hobos rest there if no neighbors complained about you. For what I saw in my other dreams, the hobos that were clean and polite would rarely be forced to leave their chosen place.

Anyway, I settled down in that comfy, dry place. I spread the cardboard bedding on the corner of the entrance kept while keeping the string that holds it together in my pocket.

I checked the puppy inside my jacket and was still sleeping undisturbed despite all the movement and noises, what a cute puppy.

I began to make my DIY rain catcher with the plastic bottle and my dulled hobo knife. It took a lot of time to take the top of the bottle and invert it. When I finished, I used my string to attach it to the gate from the outside to catch the rain that was still dripping.

Then I cleaned both yogurts cups with some of the rain and left a 1/3 of water there on one of the cups.

I then filled 1/3 of the other cup with equal parts of both Zebra and Lemur food and began to crush it gently with the tip of the hobo knife, pouring water from time to time to mix it.

After a few minutes, I had a brownish paste ready for eating. Sure it doesn't look appetizing or anything like it, but in my eyes was a gourmet food of vitamins, calcium, and iron. I ate the worst things when I was an Indian.

I switched from my knife to my fork and began to taste it. It was like eating dirt really, but it had a grass-like the taste too. Not bad. I scooped a large spoonful and began to feed the puppy inside my jacket.

He began to eat gladly with his eyes still closed, what a champ!

After we ate one yogurt cup, we ate another one between the two of us and drift to the dreamland while laying on the floor next to the still wet cardboard.

UPDATED CHAPTER! HOPE THAT YOU LIKE THIS CHAPTER!