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Where The Ghetto?
Ima get a complex if this keeps up. Another friendly (nosey) neighbor come up to the house last night with a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift, a damn plant, and look at me with that same incredulity I got from that other neighbor last weekend. I told both these people the same thing, more or less, I’m the new caretaker, or, Ima looking after the place is what I told them and the one guy actually said–Are you REALLY the new caretaker?, and the other guy, well, he just looked scared at first, probably on account of I just come out of the pool looking, I don’t know, maybe too much a long hair or something, but goddamn it, this is the way it is out here now, you know, for however long, and (I’m not saying I opened the gift card and am taking this quote directly but so what if this is “the premier property in all of Rappahannock”) so don’t sweat it there’s a new fool on the hill, freak in the big house, johnny come lately. I might let you come swimming sometime. I mean I said come anytime didn’t I? Even though you and I know I was just being polite and that you can’t take anything that caretaker says to the bank. That guy’s probably searching the Internet as we speak, looking for a good hippie manual.
But I’ll chill for a minute because people sure seem to have a sense for that out here. And I don’t want to get people talking about that hippie on the hill having self-esteem issues. Even though, let’s face it, a person with a full head of self-esteem is just someone who doesn’t ask very good questions.
I’m adaptable though. Ghetto dweller, King of the Hill, same thing, different view.