A serendipitous encounter in the Fall of 2013, outside of a post office, on a chilly September day — “Oh, he isn’t actually a hobo.” The lady behind the counter glanced out the window of the post office at the subject of the man’s inquiry. “He lives near here… comes here to pay his rent. He’s harmless. Quite eccentric, though.” Her explanation felt rehearsed, like she was a tour…