Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Down In The Ghetto

It's been a busy week here in the hood. If the cop presence gets any more thick, I may consider opening up a doughnut stand. I can't offer cider as it's super expensive down here. $6 for a gallon is beyond my pocketbook considering these guys tend to guzzle the stuff. Especially when I heat it up, top with whipped cream and drizzle it with caramel.

Mmmm - be right back.

Gulp! Aaahhhh!

Where was I?

For some reason everyone gets pulled over right near our driveway. There was the car search that resulted in 6 cop cars and hours upon hours of entertainment as Jared gave us blow by blow commentary. He could see the whole thing from his room. We actually had our road blocked off by 3 cop cars as someone was holed up in the house a block over just the other day.

I think Mr. Rogers would be terrified to ask anyone if they wanted to be his neighbor here.

Today's exciting episode was cops canvassing the ghetto neighborhood trying to get info from the shots that were fired last night. And by shots I mean someone had to have gone through 3 or 4 magazine clips. While my prayer life has taken on a whole new level of urgency, the guys will take that moment to play a new game we call: Name That Caliber. We're watching TV when bang, bang, bang, bang goes off. Guys all wait a second and then said to each other, "that's too light of a sound to be a 45 - might be a 9mm but I'm thinking it's a 22." "Yeah, odd choice especially for this area. Did you hear last night those loud bangs? Now that had to have been a 45."

My response? What do you think?!?

I'm sending yet another prayer for God to open up some serious doors for another place to move to. Not to mention the huge army of angels to protect us and to scare the bajeebers out of whoever is shooting. But the sad thing is I really am starting to hear the difference between calibers. Funny how I never really wanted to notice this, but here I am, nonetheless, and the guys all think it's cool that I've been trying to guess at it too.

I pity the fool that messes with this group. I'm sort of a shoot first, ask questions later, and will bawl myself into a royal fit that no jury would ever convict me type of gal. That is assuming I actually hit the intruder and not the side of a wall.

But the prayer life? It's a whole new world. I don't start of with Our Father who art in heaven, but rather staying with the current situation and going with machine gun prayer. Sort sounds like help us, help us, help us oh lawd, Jesus, help!!!

I think the direct approach has been working.

Right now the Twilight Bark is going on - it's where all the dogs in the ghetto neighborhood all decide to bark like their tails are on fire. At least the gun fire is over with by 10 p.m. While the dogs are still going at it at 2 a.m.

I did mention I'm sort of praying we can move, right?

I've voiced this a few times but Jared said he sort of likes this house now, loves having his own room, and said he's not recovered from our move down here. While I agree with him as I am no where near recovered from moving - this area freaks me out. There are some nice areas around here but where we are at - feels like Detroit, Michigan instead of Indianapolis. My aunt was asking if the guys go out and play and I barked out a laugh to try and cover up I just said hell freaking no. Jared backed this up by saying, "they don't play kick the can here, they play shoot the can."

This is a bit much for me. Goes way beyond a culture thing to a what the hell is wrong with these people?! kind of thing. Heck of a time to figure out you're a small town kind of person while living in a huge inner city war zone.

Fred would like to point out that he thinks I'm exaggerating a little bit. He said he's worked on houses in some scary parts of town before and this area doesn't qualify. Dear Lord, there are places worse than this?!? He said it's not a war zone, more like a video game that has lots of guns firing in the distant background. How that's different is beyond me. Personally, I think he's stalling so we don't have to move again because I'll be honest, just the thought of moving makes me want to flop on the floor and bawl my head off.

And here's a kicker - we lost our landlord. So once again we have no idea what is going on with our housing situation. At this point, I've just rolled the whole thing over to God and said whatever.

However, last nights OK back ally Corral may have slightly changed my mind. Then again, I bet I could make some serious money on that doughnut stand. That is assuming it doesn't get robbed. Cops are only around during daylight hours - the freaks all come out at night. Just in time to make all the dogs go crazy.

I do get to laughing at how many people have told us Indy is the best place to live. I'm thinking these people might need to travel a bit more. Either that or we're on the wrong side of town.


Julie said...

I would be terrified, living someplace like that. Our old neighborhood, in Portland, was slowly turning like that, and I was SO glad to get the H3LL out of Dodge!

I hope a miracle happens, so you can move!!!!

Joanna said...

I'm not thrilled with it the time, it was all we could find. Eh, we'll get there. :)

Lorraine said...

How do you lose a landlord?? Died? Traveling without a GPS?? Left Dodge?? I can't imagine hearing gunshots from my home, but I gotta say it is too funny to think of you and yours trying to decide caliber...

Joanna said...

I'm not sure who the landlord is - he fired the property manager that handled everything and they gave us no contact information. Which we really need now that as the furnace isn't working. Brrr!

I hate the neighborhood.