A Tale of Two Trentonians

My wife and I are sitting in our little backyard, that sits adjacent to a reasonably busy intersection. It is a beautiful holiday Monday, and a few of the neighbors are having guests over for a barbecue.

I'm enjoying a nice cold beer, Chrissy who is pregnant, is admiring my nice cold beer and drinking an iced tea or something of that nature. We can hear a group of people talking loudly on the other side of the street. I just can't believe how beautiful the day is. I'm really not too good at relaxing, not sure why, I think I have restless ass syndrome. But on that day, I was getting used to the chair, in the backyard, and the cold beer in my hand.

I had just been out to the local thrift store and had an odd experience. A young black gentleman who works at the thrift store is usually quite friendly and always says hello. Not so, on this day. This day I looked at him, and was about to say hello, and he gave me the "I don't talk to crackers" look. Then I realized there were a couple of new young guys working with him. Well, thugs really. They were walking around like they owned it and tossing stuff everywhere, and giving menacing looks.

He did not want them to think he was uncool. No harm to me, I can take it. Peer pressure is a bitch and does not make any sense. I was discussing this with Chrissy, when suddenly I see a beer bottle coming over our fence and landing a couple of feet from us. It was tossed pretty hard, so I knew it came from the other side of the street. My wife is pregnant, so I feel protective, and most of our yard is covered in slate, except, luckily, where the beer bottle landed.

Before that bottle stopped rolling I was out of my seat and through the back gate. I didn't know what to expect. One person, a gang, whatever. I was pissed.

Then this skinny young black dude, who is about 25 years old runs up to me and, gets right in my space, inches from my face, and says, "It was me, I apologize like a man!"

I said, "What the fuck did you, what the fuck?!" I was barely coherent and wanted to kill him.
I said, "My wife is pregnant." He turned and he apologized to her, and he actually seemed to mean it.

Then he leaned into me more aggressively and said "I'm apologizing like a man."

Translation: "Who the fuck are you getting mad at me for throwing trash in your backyard in broad daylight. The world is my trashcan and if you say another word about it, I'll fuck you up."

I was dumbfounded: his stance and tone did not match his words, but he did utter them, so I shook his hand and said, "All right. I don't get it but all right."

He had been standing with one of my neighbors, who apologized too. For real. He was stunned I think.

Then I went back in our backyard and I retrieved the beer bottle and I gave it back to Mr. Aggresso. He just stared at me, so his friend took the bottle. I wanted him to know that his apology was horseshit.

That the tale of my first Trentonian.

And here's the tale of my second Trentonian:

Next door to us there was a wonderful Spanish family. Quiet, pleasant, polite, thoughtful, and well, normal. They just did their thing and didn't bother anyone.

A couple of weeks ago they had a baby shower on a Saturday. The party started around 5 pm. Around 8pm I noticed a number of the party kids close to our bushes at the side of the house. I went out and found reeking puddles of urine everywhere. I was not too happy about that.

I made my way next door and found my neigbor, the soon-to-be father. And I said, "Hey buddy, I don't mean to be a jerk, but can you please ask everyone to have their kids stop peeing on my bushes?"

He looked at me and said, "No problem. I'm sorry. Would you like some food?"

Would I like some food? I had been smelling that awesome food since the night before when they started cooking. Before I could answer, he had handed me a heaping plate of steaks and rice.

Another fellow offered me a beer. Chrissy was thrilled with the food, as she described (among other things) in her blog.

So, who would you rather have in your neighborhood, Trentonian #1, or Trentonian #2?

Trenton is fucked the fuck up! I pray that it gets better.

Pretty much any day or night, I see/hear/pick up broken glass, thanks to the neighborhood thugs who smash their booze bottles. I hear their thug music pounding up and down the street, and I listen to them scream and yell and set off firecrackers and ride dirt bikes and ATV's. These wasters do nothing for our neighborhood, or society in general, but most of the other neighbors and parents of these wasters just turn a blind eye.

Now back to the baby shower night, I had at least 3 neighbors tell me that they called about the noise around 11pm, the noise being the music from the baby shower. In fact the dispatcher told them at least 15 people had called.

Why don't these people call when the wasters are creating havoc?

Well, all those who called to complain about the music should be happy as our wonderful Spanish neighbors have moved. They decided one night to have a party and celebrate the arrival of a new life, and a bunch of people in the neighborhood kicked them in the balls. And fuckin' hard too.

Priorities here are fucked.

I'm tired of the stupid neighbors with the stupid priorities, and I'm even more tired of the stupid wasters. So, to all of you, you are on notice: this cracker is watching you.

G SPOT ON THE DOWNHIGH OUT!