|
and even between the chemical plant, crack houses, and registered sex offenders that are all within sight of my house, I still prefer it to Richmond, Va Beach, and NOVA.
I've come up with a simple solution. I'm very nice to my neighbors, but give off the image of a psychotic redneck. Consequently, we're on excellent terms. They generally leave me alone and I generally leave them alone, unless they're publicly doing something criminally stupid that pisses me off.
Had a situation a few weeks ago at one of the closer crackhouses (just across the street) on my day off. One of the ex-girlfriends of one of the dealers came over, and the dealer's sister dragged her from the car and started beating her in the middle of the day on the road between our houses. I threw on a pair of overalls over my bathrobe, grabbed a rifle (an evil "assault weapon" with a high-cap magazine), walked out onto my porch, and screamed "UNHAND THAT WOMAN, RIGHT F*CKING NOW!!!"
They did, right f*cking then. To the best of my knowledge, nobody called the cops and the beaten girl left. (I don't call the cops now because they take forever to respond, and nobody over there cooperates with them.) I saw the dealer the next day, and he was polite as hell to me.
It's all about image here...and I'm good at projecting the "I'm heavily armed, easily bored, and off my medication" image to them. It works well.
|