January 20th, 2010
Sarah and I were watching a movie last night, ("Off the Map", which I highly recommend), when we started hearing a plethora of sirens pass by on Chicago Ave. I noticed that they seemed to be stopping near by and went up to peek out the window. Sure enough, the end of the block was lit up like a Christmas tree with cops and firetrucks. And I could see thick billows of dark smoke rolling across the street. "Holy shit," I thought, "Someone's house is on fire!"
After throwing on a jacket, we walked out into the closed off street with the rest of the gawking neighbors to see what was going on. It was clear that the apartment building at the end of the block was the source of the smoke (which was thick, black, and dense at this point). One of the guys who lived in the building said he had seen what'd happened, and after giving a report to the police related the story to us.
Apparently the Angry Guy* had been evicted yesterday and was extra angry. So he started an abandoned car on fire that was parked between the apartment building and the garage. From there, the fire quickly spread to the garage and gutted it before the firefighters could quell the blaze.
* Angry Guy is the last of the weirdos on our block. After the crack whore was evicted, it had been relatively quiet on our block. But every now and then I hear the Angry Guy walk past the front of the Manfort yelling at himself and the world in general as he passes. I knew that Angry Guy lived in the apartment building at the end of the block and often saw him pacing on the sidewalk across from the bus stop yelling at passing cars, himself, and anything else that approached in a pretty incoherent fashion about who knows what. I just chalked him up as one of our local loonies. According to a neighbor, he'd been in a mental hospital for a number of months this last Fall/Winter and had recently been released only to upgrade to local arsonist.
After most of the police and firemen left, we made sure that the neighbors could return to their building and went back in to warm up and finish our movie. I guess we won't have to worry about mister Angry-Pants Guy anymore. Like Dr. Buddy Rydell says, "Repeat after me, goosefraba..."
May 22nd, 2009
The crack house across the street was possessed a year ago and the city pumped enough money into it for a new roof, landscaping, and probably meth lab removal. It's been on the market for a month and I watched countless people go in and out checking the place out. Last week the house sold.
So -- who's my new neighbor across the street? Jon and I discussed the matter and agreed that any of the following would be alright in our books.
- Members of the Swedish Bikini Team -- preferably three or four that like to showcase new swimwear as they tan in the front yard.
- Someone who works at Hooters -- since obviously these girls wear nothing but orange short shorts and midriff T's.
- Members of the Gophers Cheerleading Squad -- that either host jello wrestling contests and/or need critique of their cheer routines.
Either way, I'm going to have plenty of sugar on hand in case any or all of the above need to stop by to borrow a cup. ;)
April 4th, 2008
How'd you'd like to have
her as your neighbor?
Yay -- the druggies and crack-whores have been evicted!
As Kari, Bob and I left for piano bar night, we noticed a cop car, a tow truck, and a flat bed truck across the street. A week earlier, I'd noticed a green eviction notice taped to the front door by the "Minneapolis Inspection Department".
Not that I harbored any ill will against my ever-drama-causing neighbors, it's just that I won't miss the constant barrage of heavy bass as cars with rims of value more than the vehicle they're on pull up for 15 minutes in front of my house. Then an occupant runs across the street into the always dark house, returns 5 or 10 minutes later and drives away. Then 15 minutes later, the process repeats. All night.
So far as I could tell the occupants were the crack-whore, her drug dealer boyfriend (and pimp) and another younger girl that clearly had a set of regular johns showing up. It's remarkable how much the first in that list resembled the picture above.
Although having druggies as neighbors is never desired, I have to admit watching the ever changing drama across the street was often amusing and sometimes exciting. Like having Cops right outside your window.
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Sarah and I were watching a movie last night, ("Off the Map", which I highly recommend), when we started hearing a plethora of sirens pass by on Chicago Ave. I noticed that they seemed to be stopping near by and went up to peek out the window. Sure enough, the end of the block was lit up like a Christmas tree with cops and firetrucks. And I could see thick billows of dark smoke rolling across the street. "Holy shit," I thought, "Someone's house is on fire!"
