Troy: The Finale

Well, another man in the bushes gone and out of my life. And I must say, I'm a little sad. It didn't end happily. I was talking to Amanda, who is moving and come to find out Troy was a crack fiend. He was her deceased son's best friend and before her son died he asked her to take care of him. But Troy bailed on her and he's gone. She's moving because she doesn't need such a big house and I'm sad. I really liked Amanda. We would go on walks in the morning and see her and she always had a big smile and hello for my girls.

She was originally from Oakland and worked her way out of the ghetto. Her daughter is a physicist in France and she does work for the county. She was a good neighbor. Troy kept things lively, but it just is really sad how the choices people make destroy lives. Where is Troy's happiness? Perhaps this is the end, perhaps it's not. It is crazy though how people come in and out of our lives so quickly.

Mr. Bushes Aka Troy part II

Recently, Troy... Yes, delightful Troy. Flagged down Joe. Again. This time Troy needed $10 to buy a cold beer and some cigarettes. Joe told him sorry. Troy's head was twitching.

And yes. I am starting a new archive entitiled "troy" to document our encounters... should he ever kill us.

** Update 8:00 PM. Our neighbor across the street seen talking to troy. I went out to see after troy left what the deal was. Supposedly Troy was hitting him up for cash also.

Mr. Bushes UPDATE

(I was looking for a Notre Dame Du Rag Image, alas... could not find)

Hold your breath! Hang on to yo' britches! Mr. Bushes name is ...... drumrollllllllll.... TROY!! Troy flagged down Joe the other day (Same exact manner as he had done to me, thank you panic). I guess he needed a ride to work, so Joe took him. Supposedly he attended Notre Dame for a couple years. My thoughts on the matter are this, don't nap in your bushes. And don't leave dead rats on the sidewalk in front of your house. Thank you.

The Man in the Bushes

I have a friend named Amanda who lives 6 houses down from us. She's from Oakland, CA and is a hard worker. I'm not quite sure of all the people that live with her, but her brother is the man in the bushes. In front of their home is lots of dirt, a couch and a couple fake poinsettias. Also there are weeds that grow like bushes by their windows and often you can find this man asleep in them, smoking a cigarette.

Usually I don't take much notice, but after a series of events I'm ready to admit we live in a ghetto neighborhood. Case in point, on a stroller walk we saw a dead rat on the sidewalk yesterday. And it's still there today. Ebola anyone? Anyone?

Then, I waved to bush man as he was smoking on his couch (He's Amanda's brother, I try to be nice) and he starts running, chasing after my car waving his arms. I stopped thinking maybe he needed a cell phone or something, but no, he wanted to tell me I was "pret-tay and to flirt". Well, you know you live in the ghetto when you, wearing your wedding ring and two small children are in the backseat of your roadmaster, get hit on. And your husband is right behind you in his slammed olds.

Friday and Saturday nights consist of loud rap music from the adjacent outdoor weed smokers.
Friday and Saturday nights consist of me calling the police or animal control to report wandering pit bulls.

Bush Man Image courtesy Flickr.com

If only my creeper neighborhood man in the bushes seemed this fun.