Sunday, July 31, 2005

Faggot Crack House

Got home at 2:30 am this morning from New York City. [Thank you, Chinatown bus, for always finding a way to sap the last ounce of life from my listless body, always punishing me for wanting to save a buck. I thoroughly enjoyed sitting in a New Jersey reststop parking lot for 3 hours.]

As I walked to my apartment, I passed what I have come to call Faggot Crack House. I'm not actually sure what kind of "house" it is -- drug house, sex house, den of prostitution -- but I know its bad. I first noticed it just weeks after moving, as it is one of the few "homes" that is on a commercial corridor here, stuck in among car mechanics, as opposed to on a residential street. Its also a run down building, you can't see in the tightly blocked windows, with a couple other random but unusual elements. So whenever I'm walking past it to work and someone walks out at 7am (okay, more like 8 or 9am), I am half tempted to blurt out "come on! you don't actually live there, do you?"

Well, try walking by at 2:30 in the morning on a Saturday night. As one guy left, another was approaching, and I stopped in disbelief for a moment. Sensing this, the guy walked on, as if he wasn't going to Faggot Crack House. So I walked a block, and waited, and sure enough he eventually came back round the corner and entered. On my walk home, I approached the cop that is always outside of my apartment (long story) and asked if he knew anything about it. He said he didn't, and was intrigued, so he asked I bring him the address tomorrow.

Now my question is: what do I do? In some ways, Faggot Crack House isn't really harming the community, at least not the proximate neighbors. Its not loud. In fact, it tries hard to be discrete. I think I'm most interested because everytime I pass I think to myself: "Wow! I mean, if even I CAN FIGURE THIS ONE OUT, how does this just go on?" Seriously. Hasn't someone else, perhaps a closer resident, found the stream of men in and out to be a bit suspect?!

I returned to the address, and stood around a block away for 15 minutes to see what happened. Over that time I saw at least a half dozen men enter or leave, all different, all alone. White and black, most were quite built, and were presumably gay. I'm only really calling it Faggot crack house because, well, built straight men don't do the urban dungeon thing much in DC. I doubt its actually Crack, but if its not directly drugs, they're definitely doing drugs wilst some other activity of choice.

But as for the community, then chances are they ARE harming it, if you are speaking of the larger gay community or even the human community. I struggle with the idea that I really should leave well enough alone those who aren't bothering me. That's what I'd like others to do with me and my lifestyle. And I should probably get over my "I found criminal activity all by myself!" streak that has supplanted having a boyfriend. And I don't mind people doing drugs. Or having sex. But I'm also a bit pissed off that they have to go and have big sex/drug parties with reckless and HIV-spreading abandon. In MY neighborhood!

So I guess its a toss-up. Touche, Faggot Crack House, touche.

Comments:
Can I just tell you how amusing it is when I check your blog and see the title "Faggot Crack House" every time? I always giggle. -m
 
If the "Faggot Crack Houseā€ has succeeded this long without law enforcement intervention in the new gentrified area can it not be commended in some way.
 
Wow, what a great site. I will bookmark this site and return often. It's nice to see sites like this.

Please visit my website and let me know what you think. Disney World Vacations
 
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?