Friday, April 01, 2005
Digs and Drugs
Let the partying begin! I am officially out of my the 5th floor walk-up with the crazy ass roommate and into the new digs, complete with elevator!!! There aren't words to express the joy of my heart at this moment. Only making out with Derek Jeter would make me happier (who, incidentally enough was on the cover of Sports Illustrated today. Oh, the joy!).
On a slightly more serious note, while I was standing watch at the U-haul yesterday, and all the manly men were bringing all the stuff down, I was conversing with the man that I've lived next door to for the last year or so. He's interesting and we have decent conversations on a semi-regular basis. He yells at guys for trying to pick up on me, and he watches our for me late at night on the street when I'm walking home by myself. He was telling me about having to go to jail for 2 years, because the police found 10 bags of weed in his apartment. 10 bags! "You deal?" I asked him. "No," he said, "the wife likes to indulge every now and then." 10 bags for a minor indulgence? I doubt it. Well, he has to go to jail or they'll take his son away, is the story, and he tells an interesting line about taking the fall for his wife. But isn't it interesting, how you spend your whole life with an opinion, ie. drugs dealers are very bad people and are only making the world a more awful place to live, etc, etc, and then you discover that your favorite neighbor is one. Does it make the issue any less black and white?
On a slightly more serious note, while I was standing watch at the U-haul yesterday, and all the manly men were bringing all the stuff down, I was conversing with the man that I've lived next door to for the last year or so. He's interesting and we have decent conversations on a semi-regular basis. He yells at guys for trying to pick up on me, and he watches our for me late at night on the street when I'm walking home by myself. He was telling me about having to go to jail for 2 years, because the police found 10 bags of weed in his apartment. 10 bags! "You deal?" I asked him. "No," he said, "the wife likes to indulge every now and then." 10 bags for a minor indulgence? I doubt it. Well, he has to go to jail or they'll take his son away, is the story, and he tells an interesting line about taking the fall for his wife. But isn't it interesting, how you spend your whole life with an opinion, ie. drugs dealers are very bad people and are only making the world a more awful place to live, etc, etc, and then you discover that your favorite neighbor is one. Does it make the issue any less black and white?
