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As the blurb on the Scottish Tourist Board website describes, there's no single element that defines the area I live in, "Rather, it's a subtle blend of many different ingredients that have been added to the mix down through the centuries."
Those ingredients range from the tame yet sinister older couple that live in the flat below us whose penchant for excessive smoking and cooked liver have caused us regular olfactory distress to the guy living in the house right next to us (although thankfully in a different stair) who, in wee hours, often likes to chuck furniture at our adjoining walls when arguing with his girlfriend and who has just been hauled away by the cops for beating the crap out of his bedroom window, observe the wreckage-
I do try not to let these things bother me, and accept it as part of the rich urban tapestry, but this dude lives literally right next to us-
I think he's having a bit of a difficult break up, earlier whilst trying to nap I was awoken to this phrase repeated over and over at top decibel- "KEELLLLLLYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! THERE'S SUMMA MA STUFF STILL IN THERE...KEELLLLLLLYYYYYYY..."
I'm beginning to wonder if a strange breed of luddites has emerged in my street only, of which this guy is definitely member. This new breed don't seem to believe buzzers, doorbells or telephones are reliable tools to ascertain whether or not somebody is at home, they would rather shout up at the desired house Romeo style for a good twenty minutes or so until absolutely sure that no-one is home. Often even this twenty minute long barrage is not satisfactory and the querent will return at random intervals during the night (never the daytime) to check and make sure. When all else fails, as seen above, a window will suffer or perhaps a door. Observe our stair door-
Note the grey metal panel on the doorframe, that's where the old locks were, until we got so fed up by the drug dealer in our stair disabling them so his clients could get in and out easily that we had one actually embedded in the doorframe. You'll note that the wire-mesh window panel at the top of the door is neatly complimented by the plain wire-mesh panel at the bottom, stapled to the door frame. This bottom panel had been reglazed so many times in the space of one year that the wire mesh seemed a better option, until that too was kicked in by a junkie desperate for a a fix. Classy, eh?
Also adding to the local colour in my street is the perma-tipping. Perhaps because low-income housing is high turnover, people are always throwing out furniture.
Currently, just outside out front door, we are treated to the beautiful sight of an old toilet bowl-
Also, for the past few days, the pub on the corner has had what looks like an old air conditioner sitting outside it-
I reckon if we had one of those signs, like on building sites, "It has been _ days since someone left a piece of crappy old furniture on the street" we'd never get past day two. I'm toying with the idea of regularly updating this thread with photos of the rapidly circulating detritis of my street, you'd be amazed by the sheer relentless quantity. I know I am.
Finally, observe the misplaced faith my local council had in its residents. Clearly they thought the simple manoever of "open big smelly communal bin and place household bin bags inside" was idiot proof, but we showed 'em!
I love it. Bags on top, bags at the bottom, nothing inside. |
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