Of the Different Modes of Acquiring the Non-Understanding of Things, or One Girl's Touching Journey Into Cynicism and Misanthropy
Friday, April 11, 2008
Ok, I would like to state for the hundredth time that I am not racist.
Last week I was not so thrilled to come out of my apartment (hidden in the back of a rundown apartment building) and find a group of construction workers from the site next door smoking weed under my stairs.
I was not thrilled about this for several very good reasons.
1. I do not like illegal drugs.
2. I do not like smelling illegal drugs.
3. I do not like people smoking illegal drugs on my property.
4. I do not like that of all the places in the world to smoke weed, under my stairs seemed appropriate. This idea probably comes from using illegal drugs.
5. I do not like the fact that people who use illegal drugs pay money for them.
6. I definitely do not like the fact that in order to pay this money, many drug users steal.
7. So, I'm not excited when potential drugged-up thieves are smoking weed under my stairs at 8:30 in the morning watching me lock up and get in my car. It does not make me feel safe.
However, in a conversation with a friend, he accused me of being racist. Er yeah, I forgot to mention they were Hispanic.
That would have been #8: I do not like when I want to tell people to get the fuck away from me with their illegal drugs, but have to settle for giving them a dirty look instead because of the language barrier.
His points were 1) just because they speak Spanish doesn't make them thieves (no objection here) and 2) marijuana doesn't cost a lot. (I don't know if I can object, see #1 under my points).
My points are that they are paid less than minimum wage, and after feeding themselves and paying rent probably can't afford it. Thus, making it highly suspect that they might steal, and who better to steal from than people whose everyday activity they can monitor up close.
And so, last night my theory was proven correct when one was caught climbing in through my neighbor's window. From a ladder. From the construction site.
Crunching conundrums, blasting boredom, eliciting criticism, languishing while laughing, blaming poetry (and/or the lack of) for all of my choices, leaving it to the stars or the people better equipped to handle it, cackling at catastrophe and saying sayanora to sourpusses and sore losers