Thievin’ Tweakers, Tweakers’ Thievin’…

So the other day here in the ‘hood — don’t recall whether I mentioned this — while I was walking the pooches along about 5 in the a.m., the hounds and I decide to make a side trip up a less-traveled lane in Richistan. (There are only so many times you can defile a mansion’s lawn without the millionaire charging out with his shotgun in hand…) Up this pleasant little side street a development of new Styrofoam-and-plaster McMansions is a-building, on a piece of land late a beloved horse property. Starting price: $800,000.

I’m thinking I’d like to explore the shells of these nascent shacks, but… As we approach the target of our proposed snooping, along come two skeletal-looking dudes, one on a bike, one on foot. They’re reasonably clean, freshly shaven, but obviously the sort we diplomatically call “homeless,” both bearing backpacks. In their near-identical scrawniness, they resemble each other so strikingly that you’d think they were brothers. But after they start to talk, you realize they’re not — they’re just acquaintances. Probably met in jail or camping on the street.

The pathological skinniness is a sign of meth use, and indeed, around here meth is the drug of choice. Some people, particularly a special type of stupid female, actually do get hooked on it when they take the stuff as a diet pill. It does cause you to lose weight, just as other kinds of speed will do.

Interestingly, both men were (at least on the surface) fairly mellow, friendly and downright neighborly. One, whom I took to be, possibly, the younger, had an odd kind of sweetness about him. When they first approached, I thought ahhh shit! I shoulda gotten another German shepherd! But nay: no overt evil intent surfaced. To the contrary, Ruby pounced the younger one, not to rip off his foot (as Anna would have done) but to try to love him to death.

They were so charmed by the adorable corgis that we all promptly became lifelong friends. If I knew which hobo camp they’re living in, I could probably get a bowl of beans at their shopping cart…assuming I brought the dogs.

While the kid on foot stood around and chatted, his more enterprising pal bicycled into the development, which was unfenced with all the framed-in houses standing open, and explored each structure. Hope the workmen didn’t leave any tools around, thought I. Then they went their way and I went my way and I reflected…

So today we walk up there and what should I see but a guy in a contractor’s pickup driving into the worksite. So I go up to him and say you should know these two guys were here about 5 a.m. and they were real innarested in  your project…so maybe don’t leave any tools out…

He said yeah, he knew: the site had already been ripped off several times. Not once but twice they stole newly installed water meters…one of them with the water turned on!

I suggested it was probably a better way to get a shower than down at the shelter. He only dimly saw the humor in that. 😀 He said he was going to put cameras around the site.

Okay…. I refrained from asking what good he thought that would do, since you’d have to catch the perp to identify him, and by the time you get to the site he’s soooo long gone. Why, one wonders, does he not just rent some fencing?

Oh well.

So, that’s Life in These Newnited States.

Makes the south of France look damn good, doesn’t it? Portugal. Parts of Spain. Germany, for sure, if you don’t mind a little regimentation in your life. Yeah.