I’m getting really disillusioned with Cabbagetown.
You’ve might have read that we nearly had our bikes stolen again the other night. In the process of getting the broken lock off the bike, the assistant to the landlord admonished us for tempting the thieves in the area by leaving our bikes out in plain view. On private property. Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I wasn’t suppose to taunt the crack heads with my existence. I know the difference between “keeping your home secure” and “not letting the terror of crime ruin your life” but come on. The bikes are a full story off the ground on a fire escape – they’re hardly “accessible” and extremely visible to all neighbours and passers by.
I use to marvel at the deep integration of cultures and varying levels of income contained within Cabbagetown. It seemed to me to be a community that worked. Now I feel like I need a shower after visiting my local grocery store. I worry about every noise I hear outside my window after midnight. I steal glances out the back door into the alleyway where I take my laundry, where a few months ago, the police informed us that someone was kidnapped and pistol whipped. And of course, we’re finishing up another summer of the screechy homeless lady who is so angry with me for calling the cops on her nearly nightly, I’m beginning to wonder if she’s going to “do” something in our doorway with those matches she uses for her crack intake.
It seems that I’m getting alienated from my community by my fears. Obviously I’m frustrated.
Time for another ’round of letters. Maybe I’ll CC in City TV and other various news media. See if they can rattle Pam’s cage and get her ass in gear.
8 thoughts on “Crappagetown”
Oh, and we can always get a few drinks into Jason and have him do his Barbara Hall impression for you. You’ll be in stitches, I promise.
Take stock. You have (from the few pictures I’ve seen) a lovely home, with sunny yellow kitchen walls and a husband who loves you. Yes, the neighbourhood has pressing, maddening problems. But it’s still Cabbagetown. I like to go there and marvel at all the Saabs parked on the leafy streets. My Saab would really like to live there, but instead she lives outside my 467 sq. ft. apartment, and worries about me in there, all alone. So very alone. LOLz!
dinner? you’re planning urban warfare on bike thieves – i bet you just want to use me as a guinea pig for your toxic concoctions.
you know what i really mean when i say “see the poor and disenfranchised as people.” i hate humans, they’re all vile. kill with impunity. given that you’re a decent person (and i’ll guess SB is, too), you aren’t likely to want to do them any real harm. i’ve got a couple of ideas in my head, i’ll try and make them less likely to end up in fatalaties. do we really have to keep the safety of drinky drinky neighbour in mind? taking him out could be a fringe benefit.
odd how a short block away i have to deal with these troubles so much less frequently. maybe there are electronic barricades that the rich people i squat amongst have erected.
I think going to the media shouldn’t be about the homeless screaming lady or the other crackhead cases, it should be about the fact that we are tax payers and our city councillor and local police force tells us there is nothing we can do about our problem, that’s what I’d like the media to get an explanation for…
That No Frills is nasty, nasty, nasty! I would only buy canned goods there – and only as a last resort.
There used to be a fine foods shop just up the street on the north side of Carlton. Every once in a while I would see the owner come out of No Frills with produce to resell at their Fine Foods Store at retardedly high prices. No wonder they eventually had a fruit fly infestation and closed down.
If I were you I’d call the cops every time crazy lady got out of hand and document it. Also document whether the police show up or not and get their badge numbers and names. It will make your case that much more sound to the media.
We should have you over for dinner to discuss jungle terror tactics down our back staircase. I did look into motion detectors for bikes. The fishing line would just make our drinky drinky neighbour bleed a bit.
Going out the back door of the NoFrills last night seriously made me gag. The garbage room had something rotting in it. Couple that with the stupid fucks that think they can wedge their shopping carts in that 7×7 space with the security bars that stop the carts, ensured that I had to stand there and breathe that crap in. This particular NoFrills attracts people who don’t have a lot of common sense.
I do realize that the homeless woman is a person. The first year we were nice. We asked nicely for her to move on, to be quiet. I wouldn’t care that she was begging on our doorstep if she kept quiet. Due to drug use her, and others, have turned Parliament street into a dive. When I do go to the media, it won’t just be about her.
last fall the cops put a bunch of “bait bikes” that were equipped with gps units out to be stolen, mostly around u of t. you could always ask ever-helpful 51 division (cue laugh track) to install one of these on your fire escape by your bikes. doubtful, though, given that it’s technically illegal to lock your bikes to the fire escape the way you do (they can supposedly impede people escaping from fires and all that irrelevant nonsense).
i think you can stop the thieves, but it’ll take some planning and illegal activity. strong fishing line strung four or five steps up would trip up any of the usual suspects and give them fine bloody faces. you can install gps units yourself, too (the spy store has them). motion sensors that trip lights and sirens might betray more raccoons than thieves, but they might give you the opportunity to break some asshole’s arm with a pipe. don’t one of your neighbours have a locked gate (also illegal) across their fire escape to restrict access? what are you willing to do?
your local grocery store isn’t that bad, you whiner. it’s a no-frills – bring your own bags so you don’t have to use their boxes. you should wash after being in any grocery store – it’s not like germs don’t live on hoity-toity dominion and pusateri’s shoppers.
want to make the news? complain to the cops nightly about screechy homeless lady. document if and when they arrive, get their names and badge numbers, etc. if they don’t get rid of her after a week, take a few days off work. then, every time she starts up at night, you and sharkboy begin accompanying her on trumpet and drums. follow her around, playing the whole time – i’ll bet the cops will be there promptly and actually do something. maybe you could phone the media in advance about this….
i say all this with some reservations, of course. the poor and disenfranchised aren’t just irritants for those in classes above them. they’re also people – as a society, we either have to deal with them humanely or declare them quickly expendable. get her some housing and proper medication or just set fire to her.
That neighbourhood’s a real shame. Having lived there for a couple of years, I can say that there are a lot of beautiful houses and quaint pockets. There’s also a lot of shit. One time I watched a crack whore get fucked in all sorts of positions in the alley behind our apt. Her head was shoved into some rocks and sticks in the corner of the fence while the guy pounded her like a champ. Even waving at the people walking by. It was like watching a car wreck, only with a huge cock. Wait – what was I talking about again?