Ms. Tina's Neighborhood

“That looks dumb,” is what my 11-yr. old son said this morning of the grown ass man walking around our complex’s parking lot at 7:45 with sunglasses on and can of beer in his hand.  

I like to take it a step further and build a story. You can’t do that, you might say. You can’t assume things about people; you don’t know what they’re going through. Can’t I though? I can, and I did.

"Tanked Thomas" is meandering through our parking lot this morning trying to avoid the bustling within his household. His wife, a nurse, is getting ready for work. She’s passive-aggressively banging shit around the house to ensure he’s awake and aware of her state of unhappiness.

See, Thomas was up late again last night putting away beer after shitty canned beer, becoming increasingly frustrated at the television and most other electronic devices he owns.

Thomas crushes beer cans and leaves them where he stands, or swerves. Like a trail of bread crumbs in Hansel & Gretel, they litter the floor to the bathroom and kitchen, then to the back patio where he furiously smokes and curses his shit luck and his stupid life. Someday people are going to respect Thomas. Some fine day, but not today. Today he’s just pissed in the back corner of his patio.

Poor unemployed and pathetic Tom was fired because of his alcoholism. He has some rage (he prefers to call it an attitude problem) issues also. Thomas fails to see how putting your fist through drywall at work on a few occasions while actively hung over could land you in the employment demographic. He’s gonna slash his former employer’s tires.

Now Thomas shuffles around our apartment complex at 7:45 am in sunglasses and shorts, carrying what I’m certain is a lukewarm beer. I know this with near certainty.

My overactive imagination is so much fun sometimes, and others it’s pretty fucked up. The reality is: I don’t know dick about Thomas other than he drinks crap beer and wears cheap sunglasses. Neither of those things makes him a bad person. What makes him a bad person are the socks he was wearing with his sandals this morning. Not in my hood, bro! You can be a drunk but obey the dress code! I’ll be taking that shit up with the HOA. Watch your back!

And now you know where I draw the line…