Two things.
Two, rather unrelated events occurred that I figured were worth writing about. One was from an afternoon observation point, and second was the evening “entertainment.”
Late Tuesday afternoon, I was high atop the third floor of one of the apartments, and I was keeping an eye on a resident. Young girl, student, does something with neighborhood kids, I’m not sure what. I think she’s getting a teaching degree. Her boyfriend is a rocket scientist – he has an excellent birthday (casual memory from his application). While it’s not exactly required, I tend to lump tenants together under their stated degree plans. I was worried because the side street the resident had turned down has a bad reputation. As another tenant once told me – recently – “You don’t go down there unless you want drugs.”
So while I was looking at a refrigerator that wasn’t getting cold, I kept looking out, to see if that other resident emerged. She did. She had three small girls in tow, one was wearing a little pink backpack, another in pigtails.
I’m rotten at ages. Those three children were between three and ten years old. Don’t ask me, I was on the third floor.
The girl started to herd her minions across the street, come on, work with me here, it’s only a two lane street with a center turn lane, and the two traffic lanes. One of the little girls darted out from under the protective cover of the big girl, and ran halfway into the traffic lane, looked up, saw a car, and darted back under the protective wing of the big girl.
Tragedy was averted. No screeching of tires, that time, we were all lucky that there was an alert driver. I think there was the tinkle of laughter, but I’m not sure.
I hung around the office and spent some time, just milling around outside, trying to collect the fifty cents one tenant owes me for bus fare. Actually, I think that fifty cents was an investment because, until paid in full, I can hound mercilessly about the missing monies. I don’t lend money that I intend to see ever again.
My Pisces friend picked me up because I was supposed to be her designated escort for some cop shop event. Turns out it was a big, formal deal, and there I was, in shorts and sandals, wearing a T-shirt that had a 12th Night quote on it, I think from Malvolio, some comment about drinking.
Yeah, well, there’s always one, and I was the one last night. I’m just wondering, after listening to all the good deeds that are done by the police, just how hard is it to get a friggin’ stop sign to make a neighborhood safe?
Actually, the local police rep has been extremely helpful. The paperwork he provided suggested that there needed to be “7 fatalities” at an intersection before a study could be done to see if a stop sign was necessary. And for the last few weeks, there have been increased patrols in the neighborhood.
I wonder if small children are counted as whole fatalities, or just given a decimal percentage?
What makes this worse, it’s considered a “disadvantaged” neighborhood. Right, two blocks from The University. Now, in the more upscale neighborhoods, there are all sorts of “traffic calming” effects in place. Little gardens, paid for by the city. But can we get a single stop sign?
I am so not destined for politics.
