Last night, Paul and I were watching the local news and a story about a drug ring in Grover Beach comes on. A family of skinheads with tats on their necks, all tweaked out and damaged are splattered on the screen as the “alleged” suspects. I wait for the next story, knowing that it’s typical Central Coast news. It doesn’t end there. The reporter states that it’s on the 1300 block of Newport Av. I calculate the number/address and look at Paul who knows exactly what I’m thinking. That’s a couple of blocks from where we saw the house we both think we want to live in.
FUCK THAT NOISE! I’m not living in a neighborhood that has the stench of burning cleaning fluids and Meth because the neighbors use their bathtubs to cook up business and not bathe! Yes, I’m being a snob. Then Paul says it’s everywhere and refers to my place in San Francisco. No it’s not like living in the Lower Height with the crack den down the block. I knew it was there, there was no secret, AND it wasn’t in the burbs. AUURRGH!