Old skool, word (head nod)

I have a great story regarding my hood to tell. Well actually I have two (one will be in another post). Normally, I complain a lot about how ghetto my neighborhood is. Hey, the number one profession is dope dealer. I am always seeing cops busting someone outside my apartment for the standard drug deal, prostitution, or occasional knifing. No worries though because my neighbors may be thugs, but they are extremely polite to me. Seriously, I’ll be walking home and a whole gathering (well let’s be honest, a gang) will part and wish me a good evening. I mean you gotta respect!

Anyway, I was walking home at midnight last night after watching a friend’s band play (he is the drummer in a 90’s cover band...how awesome is that!). I noticed there was a big group converged in the street park right outside my front door. A street park is like a regular park, just with concrete instead of grass. Basically it is a street that you can’t drive down with two benches..who hoo! It is not unusual to see a group at midnight in the park since it is the #1 place to deal dope in the tri-state area. As I got closer I started to hear a regular rubber ball bounce. You know the distinct ping sound of a gym class red dodge ball. Well I then realize it is actually my brand new neighbors (a bunch of emo/hipster art students…they singlehandedly doubled the white population in our block) and they were playing 4-square. Yes, 4-SQUARE! I ran up on them and started to gush about the game. Frankly that made my week. Maybe tomorrow they will break out freeze tag. I love my hood.