It's getting scary out there.
I have been house sitting for my folks for the past three months, and I have to say, this is not down town.
This is a fairly solid upper middle class neighborhood and I have been having the strangest shit go on since I have been here.
I have this one guy that stops by every week and wants to collect the empty beer and pop cans I put in bags and set out.
OK, have at it dude, I been there and ya are more than welcome to 'em.
Two minutes ago, at Eleven Fifteen at night, the door bell rings.
Not a good thing.
I don't recognize the beater car in the driveway so I take a precaution before I open the door and here is the Beer can dude!
He ain't happy because there aren't any cans outside!
What. The. Fuck?!!
I took the garbage and recycling out three hours ago and I know damn good and well there was at least ten Beer cans in sacks, in the recycling.
Somebody done beat the guy out of his money, which ain't much, but he came to the door a couple of weeks ago and asked permission to get the cans.I can't fucking believe there is someone out in this area that is ripping off the Can Dude.
That's fucked up.
Apparently there is someone in more dire straights, and the Can Dude needs to rearrange
He was not happy that there were no beer cans in the recycling and rang the fucking door bell at quarter past eleven to let me know that.
A locking storm door and a deadbolt on the front door, I ain't worried about the guy busting in and demanding a half rack of empty beer cans but it is sure as fuck a sign of the times when someone is swiping beer cans out of the recycling at ten o'clock at night.
The poor bastard was giving me a guilt trip because I told him he could take them and tonight there wasn't any when he got here.
By the way, this is going to be a big surprise to the old man when he gets back into town.
Heh,the poor Can Dude is in for a let down too, When I split, the cans are going with me, Daddy don't drink beer anymore.