There are many bad things about living in a less than great neighborhood. But also some really good things. This is a mixed bag post.
First, the bad
Early this week, while walking my dogs, I stepped in some dog feces. One of the hazards regardless of how nice the neighborhood is, no matter how cultured (or not) the residents are, people walking their dogs are very negligent in picking up their dog’s droppings.
Instead of tracking it into my apartment, I left my Teva’s to let the poop dry so I could shake it off. But the next morning I step outside to shake the shit off, and they are gone. Someone decided that they needed my sandals more than me, and took them.
They were well worn, so I am not going to cry a river, but it does seem petty that footwear isn’t safe.
Early phone calls
Our master bedroom faces over the patio(s) in our bank of units (it also faces a busy street, but that is a different story).
Of course, that means we hear the wild parties across the street (2 – 3 nights a week), and the drunken fights that happen as the parties breakup. Bad enough.
This morning, at 4:00 AM, our neighbor is on his patio talking to a (suspected ex) love interest. Not fighting, but loud, a mix of english and spanish, and a lot of sad sap pleading about how much he loved her and can’t live without her.
For over an hour.
Next, the good
Last night, walking the dogs, there was a small mariachi band practicing on the steps of one of the apartments. Guitar, Accordion, and horns.
Not that I am aficionado, but they were quite good.
Well, that is all for this episode of Apartment Living.