The apartments across the street caught fire. Five fire trucks! It was electrical in nature, and ruined one apartment. Sheesh.
Night before last, Number 8’s kid got hauled off by the police and ambulance, and taken to Truman where they dope him up ‘cos he is psycho. THEN he comes back and smashes the front door lock in.
Some idiots in the other building are using methamphetamine, shooting that crap up. Sheesh.. Then there is old Frank, aged 89, and poor as a churchmouse. Someone in the building calls in on him, ‘cos his place smells like urine. (He has some medical condition where he can’t pee.. so he has this bag he hauls around on his walker). He has that piss bag full of yellow piss that he totes around with himeself, as he creeps around on his walker.
He’s old, and dirt poor. Like crabs in the barrel (my favorite metaphor) is this ‘hood. One woman goes out hooking ‘cos her old man beat the crap out of her. She’s trying to make the rent, gets jumped, and gets bitten badly..I might post a photo, I took a photo of it. That woman can’t win for losin’.
The hookers- these poor gals, they are not playboy material either. Wretches, is what I think of them. They are more like beggars that fell through the cracks, and can’t get out. People, are going to be what they are going to be, and do, what they are going to do. It’s like a horror movie. I am always writing about them, because they are in my face every day. They are out there now, running around.
The tensions of this ‘hood can be great. Everyone wants to make damn sure, that they are takin’ nothin, off of anyone else. *groann*
It’s the same anywhere, at any station in life I suppose. You got to be so careful, so careful where you tread.