This is not good...it's true though...

The one that came inside had a narrow, thin face like a rat's, and a head of dreads that combined to make him think he looked like Zach De La Rocha. He seemed stupid. He'd clearly been wandering, a great distance most likely. He looked haggard. His voice was that kind of worn out high pitch, where it sounds a little strained at all times. He begged. He offered him fish, but he wouldn't take it. But came back a little later and took it for another. These were the two dogs that came that night and were astounding to him.
"I'm like, hopping trains and just got in town. I'm like, so starving, bro. You got any food maybe you could give me, you know?" He said moving his arms, seeming a little manic.
"Right here," he said handing him the fish burrito he'd accidentally made, "you like fish?"
"Ah, bro, damn...I know beggars can't be choosers, but I don't dig seafood really."
"Well, come back later around nine and I'll make you up something with the food we throw away." He said distractedly as he noticed that the erotically chubby girl who he'd served a minute before was sitting with her legs apart and exposing her underwear in his general direction.
"Oh, what time is it now?"
"8:15."
"Ah, damn, well, shit bro. Ok, I'll come back then."
"Alright, later."
The kid extended his dirty hand and he slapped it lightly and then they put their fists together; he walked out the door, one hand pulling up his baggy torn pants. His eyes went back to the dress with the open legs. The door opened and the kid came back in.
"Hey, so my brodog will eat that." This was when he first realized it. This kid was a dog. He watched him beg, he saw the dog. This dirty, stupid kid who rides on freight trains across this country was in reality a dog, and so he took pity on him as he would a dog. He handed him the burrito again, "you think I could like get some chips and hot salsa or something, I gotta watch my bro eat and shit, I'm like starving." He put some chips in a bag and filled a small cup with salsa, handing it to him, not saying a word.
"Yo, thanks so much man. Shit, thanks." He said, again extending his hand, "you're fucking cool man, I'll come back at nine, I know you'll hook it up so fat."
He was closing up, sweeping the floor about to mop it, when his coworker began talking to someone at the door. He figured it was the dog, it was about nine. He walked to the open back door of the kitchen, they were two at the door, smiling with stupid excited grins. They stood just as dogs, making the smiling dog faces, tongues out, tails wagging. He was astounded. These men were dogs...Dogs. He made them a lot of food and took it out the back, he saw their packs on the ground and saw them begging at a nearby table of another restaraunt. He left the food there with their packs and he saw the rat dog one coming back in. He walked to the counter and waited for him.
"Yo, man."
"Hey, I left the food with your packs." The other dog who was an ugly blonde shorthair with piercings in his face and a leather jacket came in behind the rat dog.
"Oh, badass man, you think, I could like get some chips. You'll like throw them out anyway."
"No, we keep the chips...but you can have some."
"And salsa, man? I love salsa, I'm so big on salsa."
"Yea, salsa, sure."
"And like maybe some lemonade and water, you know, like a big cup?"
"Yea, go ahead."
"Oh, shit thanks man." He was simply amazed at what this man, these men were, these men were the dogs. From appearance to action, these men were dogs.