Dave's not here, man.

I know this is a town with its problems.

I know there are many people who have too much money and spend it on stuff that, quite frankly, are bad for them.

I also know there are people who don't have a lot of money and spent what little they have on stuff that's REALLY bad for them.

Knowing this, I shouldn't be too shocked when I see someone so strung out they're wandering into traffic and are clearly not in their right mind.

However, that DOES NOT give anyone the right to chuck rocks at my windows to get the attention of some guy named Dave!

Yesterday evening, I heard someone yelling for Dave outside my apartment building. I ignored it as I hear people yelling outside my apartment building at least a few times a week. The I heard a clattering on the exterior walls, off my windows and on my deck.

I looked out my bedroom window to see what was going on, and saw two ladies, and I use that word loosely, one far more unsteady on her feet than the other, getting a little frustrated that Dave wasn't acknowledging them. The really strung out one had taken off her shoes and was wandering around the lawn and into the street. Luckily for her, vehicles going by did slow down so as to hit run her over.

Her friend asked what she was gonna do now, cuz he's not home. She said 'Oh he's here, I'll just throw something bigger.' She then looked up, saw me in my bedroom window, and threw a rock directly at me.

For a cracked out bitch, she had good aim.

Even more lucky for her, my window had a screen, because now, I'm beyond pissed.

So I make my way out to the balcony, upon seeing me her tone attempts to turn nice and sweet as she says 'Oh, hi.'

I told her that there is no one in this apartment named Dave, so she'd best stop throwing rocks at my balcony.

She asked if I was sure.

Okay, I like to think I'd know if there was a Dave living in my apartment, since it's not all that big of a place and there are few places he could be hiding.

I told her I was positive and that she needed to leave.

She shrank back and said she was sorry, getting her shoes and presumably leaving.

Now, I didn't name-call, I didn't throw rocks back, despite really wanting to throw my little barbecue at her, 'cause I'm classy like that, but I did use what I call my Mom voice.

I'm not a mom, but I can definitely work the Mom tone of voice when it suits me. And oh boy, did it ever work on my crackwhore friend out there.

Now, I'm sure a lot of people out there probably don't see what the big deal is, since she didn't break any windows or anything like that. Well, the reason this irked me so damn much is because on the Thanksgiving weekend in 2006 – less than a month after I moved here – there was a rather shady character living in this building, we'll call him Dave, who also had some strung out bitch trying to get his attention.

After he continued to ignore, she decided the best way to get his attention was to light one of the stairwells on fire.

Try waking up to a burning building caused by a chick looking for a fix from Dave, and see how much you'd enjoy having rocks thrown at your window.

Oh, and apparently she didn't actually leave... I heard a voice outside this morning calling out for Dave. It's possible she slept in the bushes, waiting for Dave to come save her or some dumb thing.

Sorry to tell you lady, but Dave's not here, man.

Rocks and Windows,

~Ginger