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Welcome to the dollhouse

2005-12-06 - 8:39 p.m.

Naturally I didn't mean for the homeless woman to have her stuff wiped out of the alley. The alley is a special and can be a scary place. Drug deals are fine. The guy with the long ponytail that beat her the other night who popped out from behind the fence was not. Her slim friends were doing the drunk reveler thing next to her "house", which actually incorporated a large plastic dollhouse that she may have neatly squeezed into - it was like Where's Waldo?, I could never find her in there (with my eyes) - and of course the overdone shopping cart. She never bothered me, just loomed around me a lot. But then two days ago!

Yelling. Cursing. Not at all the victim she purported to be. I looked outside and could've sworn I saw her throwing a metal javelin over the fence, exactly the direction that the abuser with the ponytail was often lurking/buying. I tried to make out what she was saying, while getting ready to go to work. Because there's an ugly truth in beauty, or something like that.

"Fuck fuck think I am? Who do you what peck? What fuck fuck?" Cuh-lang! Something else was hurled over the fence, looked a lot like the dollhouse.

"Fuck fucking branch! Beat blah bony! Fucker!"

It stopped being cute 17 minutes later. I heard someone in #B yell shut up, but he made the mistake of yelling it within the apt. complex, not outside where our friend was. He may have been talking to my thoughts. I had to.

Hello, non emergency? There's a lady who keeps yelling and it's affecting me getting ready. Transient? Homeless? Well, technically, but she seems to have built a home in the alley. Plus a dollhouse. You don't need to move her, just please make her shut up, she's throwing metal things and screaming loud at the fence. Her friends are quiet but they are increasing in volume daily. It's like Dawn of the Dead out there. You know the alley, you guys are here every other week. That one, yes.

Well guess who forgot about it, came home from work, saw an empty and swept clean alley, and felt bad? I told someone the other day she is much neater than me. All the clothes were folded (over the cart) and, if you weren't from this country, and didn't have a tv or never heard the radio, you may think she owned a hip condo. Minimum.

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