two months ago, i returned from spring break to discover that the other half of my duplex had been rented out.
since then, there has been nonstop traffic, broken things in the front yard, garbage in the backyard, and the cops have come to my place twice looking for them.
at first i thought a guy and his young kids lived there, but in the last few weeks, i've learned that it's actually his babymama that lives there.
straight trash-- chica's friends or associates or clients or whatever pull through the parking lot to park in the yard, then walk by my half of the unit spouting ignorant bullshit quite loudly in a ghetto tongue (that just seems silly--a product of "too much goddam MTV" for a town too small and rural for innercityspeak),hang out for an hour or three, then walk back past my place spouting the same bullshit and leave, just to be soon replaced by another. this begins at sundown.
i'm pretty sure it's drugs, but it could be prostitution or something else entirely or nothing at all; i don't really know shit.
i agreed to work the 5am shift last friday, so naturally, the other unit got raided on thursday night.
just sitting here, fairly stoned and quite busy doing pretty much nothing productive, when the front door started banging:
BAMBAMBAMBAMOPENUP!POLICE!BAMBAMBAM!
yeah, i freaked the fuck out, but went to the door, told the officers that i hadn't met my neighbor, didn't even know her name, etc., then told them about all the traffic and noise. they asked to come in and search for my neighbor and her boyfriend. knowing that there were a couple things out in plain view, i denied them access and shut the door. in exactly the time it took to put my contraband into various jars and into the refrigerator and cupboards, another knock came at the back door, this time from officer mustache, the sheriff's deputy. he was pissed off that i didn't open the door the first time he'd knocked--i'm guessing it happened while i was talking to the officers out front. he wanted to come in and look around, so i finally let him and all the others come through, hoping that between the doob-tube and the indian spices, there was no lingering smell from the source of my anxiety.
if any of the cops noticed, they didn't say anything. i doubt they did, but i was tweaked on adrenaline and had the kind of cannabis paranoia that spirals into a self-consciousness that only dealing with cops can bring.
well they came through and exited and that was that.
the rest of the night was pretty much a standoff--the neighbor chick and her apparently wanted boyfriend had been inside the apartment the whole time. the cops figured this out and began pummeling their door, threatening them with their pending search warrant, calling them stupid for not coming out to face the inevitable, telling them that everyone inside was going to jail tonight, but that they want to help them with their problem and all that. i heard talk of probation violation, and at some point, there were members of chica's boyfriend's family out there with the cops, pleading for him to come out. i finally fell asleep to the sound of cops' walkie-talkies around 2am.
less than 3 hours later, when i left for work, they were all gone. i don't know how it all played out in the end, but when i returned from the morning shift, the neighbor's front screen door was still standing half-open.
after a nap and the evening shift, i went directly from work to Capital City to see Lupita.
i'd agreed to work again on sunday morning, so the plan was to leave her house on saturday night by 8 or so, so i could get at least 6 hours of sleep beforehand.
at about 8 or so on saturday evening, Lupita and I, along with everyone else in her neighborhood, were out standing in the street watching tornadoes form to the sound of storm sirens.
that one eventually passed, finally touching down outside of the city, but at the same time, there was one to the south, directly between Capital City and my home in Hee-Haw, moving up the highway.
the news was reporting tennis-ball sized hail in Hee-Haw, so i decided against driving into that particular storm and instead to wait until the weather channel signaled that i had a safe passage.
trying to be home by 9 changed to trying to be home by 12, but when i got in my car to leave, a headlight was out. knowing what kind of trouble it is to replace one('99 VW Golf), i feared that i'd be taking one of Lupe's trucks back home, but i got lucky--i had a spare in my glove compartment and somehow replaced it within 20 minutes and was on the road.
i made it home by 1, and much like the night before the morning shift a couple days prior, i didn't get to sleep until 2 hours before i had to be awake.
this is the tornado that kept me from leaving Capital City. it ended up virtually razing Reading (pronounced 'redding'), a tiny town about 12 miles NE of Hee-Haw; every building in town was either lost or heavily damaged.
that morning, the hotel was full of residents of the wiped-out town. i fed them while the waitress bitched about how guests who receive the complimentary hotel breakfast don't tip well.
since then, there has been nonstop traffic, broken things in the front yard, garbage in the backyard, and the cops have come to my place twice looking for them.
at first i thought a guy and his young kids lived there, but in the last few weeks, i've learned that it's actually his babymama that lives there.
straight trash-- chica's friends or associates or clients or whatever pull through the parking lot to park in the yard, then walk by my half of the unit spouting ignorant bullshit quite loudly in a ghetto tongue (that just seems silly--a product of "too much goddam MTV" for a town too small and rural for innercityspeak),hang out for an hour or three, then walk back past my place spouting the same bullshit and leave, just to be soon replaced by another. this begins at sundown.
i'm pretty sure it's drugs, but it could be prostitution or something else entirely or nothing at all; i don't really know shit.
i agreed to work the 5am shift last friday, so naturally, the other unit got raided on thursday night.
just sitting here, fairly stoned and quite busy doing pretty much nothing productive, when the front door started banging:
BAMBAMBAMBAMOPENUP!POLICE!BAMBAMBAM!
yeah, i freaked the fuck out, but went to the door, told the officers that i hadn't met my neighbor, didn't even know her name, etc., then told them about all the traffic and noise. they asked to come in and search for my neighbor and her boyfriend. knowing that there were a couple things out in plain view, i denied them access and shut the door. in exactly the time it took to put my contraband into various jars and into the refrigerator and cupboards, another knock came at the back door, this time from officer mustache, the sheriff's deputy. he was pissed off that i didn't open the door the first time he'd knocked--i'm guessing it happened while i was talking to the officers out front. he wanted to come in and look around, so i finally let him and all the others come through, hoping that between the doob-tube and the indian spices, there was no lingering smell from the source of my anxiety.
if any of the cops noticed, they didn't say anything. i doubt they did, but i was tweaked on adrenaline and had the kind of cannabis paranoia that spirals into a self-consciousness that only dealing with cops can bring.
well they came through and exited and that was that.
the rest of the night was pretty much a standoff--the neighbor chick and her apparently wanted boyfriend had been inside the apartment the whole time. the cops figured this out and began pummeling their door, threatening them with their pending search warrant, calling them stupid for not coming out to face the inevitable, telling them that everyone inside was going to jail tonight, but that they want to help them with their problem and all that. i heard talk of probation violation, and at some point, there were members of chica's boyfriend's family out there with the cops, pleading for him to come out. i finally fell asleep to the sound of cops' walkie-talkies around 2am.
less than 3 hours later, when i left for work, they were all gone. i don't know how it all played out in the end, but when i returned from the morning shift, the neighbor's front screen door was still standing half-open.
after a nap and the evening shift, i went directly from work to Capital City to see Lupita.
i'd agreed to work again on sunday morning, so the plan was to leave her house on saturday night by 8 or so, so i could get at least 6 hours of sleep beforehand.
at about 8 or so on saturday evening, Lupita and I, along with everyone else in her neighborhood, were out standing in the street watching tornadoes form to the sound of storm sirens.
that one eventually passed, finally touching down outside of the city, but at the same time, there was one to the south, directly between Capital City and my home in Hee-Haw, moving up the highway.
the news was reporting tennis-ball sized hail in Hee-Haw, so i decided against driving into that particular storm and instead to wait until the weather channel signaled that i had a safe passage.
trying to be home by 9 changed to trying to be home by 12, but when i got in my car to leave, a headlight was out. knowing what kind of trouble it is to replace one('99 VW Golf), i feared that i'd be taking one of Lupe's trucks back home, but i got lucky--i had a spare in my glove compartment and somehow replaced it within 20 minutes and was on the road.
i made it home by 1, and much like the night before the morning shift a couple days prior, i didn't get to sleep until 2 hours before i had to be awake.
this is the tornado that kept me from leaving Capital City. it ended up virtually razing Reading (pronounced 'redding'), a tiny town about 12 miles NE of Hee-Haw; every building in town was either lost or heavily damaged.
that morning, the hotel was full of residents of the wiped-out town. i fed them while the waitress bitched about how guests who receive the complimentary hotel breakfast don't tip well.
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according to Tony Crisp, tornadoes symbolize urges and emotions against which we feel powerless and may become obsessive.