(This is not a neighborhood where people drive rented mini vans or play air-golf in the street.)

As if on cue the local drunk homeless person that belongs to my street came shuffling up with a bottle of cheap cheap, probably charcoal distilled vodka, half empty. He took one look at the 4 of them and quickly crossed the street. For a moment they stopped fussing to give him a death stare. Previously this man seemed relatively fearless and actually outgoing, in the evenings he is quite vocal with insane rants and tantrums on the sidewalk in front of the FSB and will come up to the door asking for cigarette butts. One look at my extended family members and he starts in with the shy routine.

And so I ask you dear diary, "what up with that?

Finally I was forced to put in a call to my father, "Dad, Aunt Patsy and Uncle Heraldo are still standing out front. They're scaring the neighbors (local drunk guy)what do I do?"

All I got for a response was a rare fit of laughter.

22 November 2004 - 1:30 PM

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