There appears to be an elderly street gang forming in my neighborhood. More specifically, near the concrete barricade that separates my buildings parking lot from the sidewalk. I see them loitering every day at around 5PM (just after their dinner I’m assuming). They strut around, bellies full, bracing their backs with their own hands, occasionally leaning over to rest their elbows on the concrete wall. All of them clearly suffer from chronic back pain and probably rickets.
I don’t need this shit in my neighborhood! God knows what they’re up to. I glare at them from my window constantly, hoping to make them nervous. Maybe they’ll think I’ve called the cops on them.
I just don’t understand their generation. With their green polyester blend slacks that don’t come within 4 inches of their ankles, and their collared golf shirts. It sickens me! This is what I mean about the world going to shit. One day there’s three or four elderly men outside your home, and next thing you know you can’t even feel safe walking around your own neighborhood.
And so I stare. I stare and I stare and I stare. I like to stare at them. It’s a very tactful defense strategy. It’s the only defense I have really. I hope they don’t home-invade me.