I awoke last night to a violent and perverse scuffling in the alley. It was after 2 A.M. For a few moments I was totally lost and thought a home invasion was in the works. The swearing was loud and drunken but no bottles were smashing or windows breaking. WTF?! I crept to the bathroom window, upstairs above the only streetlight in the alley. I refocused my eyes. I could tell from the swearing I was dealing with a couple of youngish white guys who were mad as hell, but this was not what I had expected. The taller one with hipster beard and glasses was wielding a sling blade, his shorter, bald pal with long baggy checkerboard shorts and big combat boots was attacking with a sword. Seriously, a sword. The blade was at least four feet long and had to weigh half as much as he did. They both hollered, grunted, and chopped with vicious abandon at every defenseless weed in the alley. Sample dialogue: "Fuck you motherfucker weed fucking with my fucking car one more fucking time...", etc. They chopped, swore and whacked their way up and down the alley. I bore silent witness to their mayhem as they branched out, slicing and dicing Mr. Piano Man's avocado tree into submission.
As I watched them move out of sight and into the labyrinth of barking dogs down the alley, it hit me that there was an entire segment of society that was feeling screwed over by the New Depession that I hadn't thought of before: guys in their late 20's-early 30's, making good bank in the industry, or at hip media jobs, where there is no sense of loyalty or job stability on either side. These guys used to go to work everyday with the attitude of 'take this job and shove it' because I can, and will, get something better that pays more in like, two days, man. And now those guys hadn't worked in a year, and their unemployment was a dry teat. Student loans the size of a normal mortgage were also raining despair down into their young souls, and they suffered the anger of the helpless. Fuck those motherfucking weeds!
And then they came back up the alley working the other side. They were still swearing like fucking mud wrestlers, but were seriously winded. Suddenly they stopped right below me, looking at my truck. "What the fuck is this?" Huff and puff. "A fucking Highlander?" "No, it's," huff, huff, huff. "A hybrid. Escape hybrid." The smaller, bald villain rested his weapon on his shoulder. "They're good people," the big fellow slurred. "Good people. They keep their shit trimmed." And they walked off. "As do I," said the sword whacker as he chopped a single foot long piece of bamboo from next to our gate. (Well, that filthy weed was getting a bit out of hand...) And as they walked on, I saw the unmistakable outline of the alley's only Great Dane, Mitzi. "Come on, Mitzi. Back in, back in." And the weed whacking neighbors returned home. And as weird as it was, it's always good to know that your neighbors think highly of you.
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