This was to be first in a comical series of examples about my neighborhood and my inability to discern a quote-ghetto-unquote from anything short of a subdivision where the median income is $200k/yr. I was here for half a year before I realized that I was living in what most people would consider a ghetto– and only because someone said, “Dude, you live in a bad neighborhood.” This is nonsense: there’s no such thing as a bad neighborhood. The entire idea is a subtle form of racism and/or classism. If anything, I live in an up-and-comer waiting to be gentrified by the slow crawl of plasticine actresses and scumbag directors. I’m probably their shock corps.
Anyway, once you’ve tasted the apple… On my own, I wouldn’t have looked for examples but now I do, and I thought some blog hilarity might be had via the circumstances of the human comedy. About two weeks ago I got off the Metro and there was an awful, awful smell in the air. Fire. I couldn’t figure out where from, so I kept walking towards my apartment and there, down a side-street, it was: a burning car. Firefighters were already on the scene.
I didn’t have my camera, which I immediately regretted. But reality’s got my back: the burned out hulk has been sitting in the same spot ever since. So this was going to be my first jokey post– images of the burned out car & a you know you’re living in a bad neighborhood when… they’re torching cars. Totally awesome!
Only problem: the car is parked in front of the neighborhood drug house. I’m 80% certain that the guys who torched the car are the same guys always in front of the house. Then I had a visionary moment: holy, this is like a salt and pepper set. You know you live in a bad neighorhood when they’re torching cars… and the car’s too close to a drug house to take pictures! #1 & #2.
Huzzah.
August 6th, 2007 at 1:11 pm
You know you live in a bad neighborhood when your 6 month old grandson gets mugged.
I live in a large apartment building in Miami, Florida. There is a long hallway and we brought the baby a walker and everyday when I take the trash out he walks with me, I quickly throw the trash away before he gets to the door. Today however a young male about 16yrs old got off the elevator while I had the door open blocking my view and my grandson started screaming, I looked and pick him up thinking he was just scared by the stranger as sometimes happens with young children.
As I was walking to the door the baby would not calm down, so I reached down to pick up his toy phone (a very old broken cellphone) and oops it was gone. He wasn’t scared he was mad.. someone stole his toy.
I do know the kid that took it, will deal with him tomorrow when I’m a little calmer but man, mugging a baby, that’s really really low.