Day 2

Day 2

There's a crazy woman standing on the corner in front of her house yelling “here pussy pussy pussy, here pussy pussy pussy” over and over. Despite being a block away, I can quite plainly hear her. Sadly, I have to move toward her as I continue my work. And even though she can see me—a total stranger—approaching her, she continues to yell “here pussy pussy pussy.” And, even though I am standing somewhere in the vicinity of twenty feet from her, she continues to yell. I continue doing my work, and she finally moves toward her door. She opens the door and from inside the yowling of multiple cats can be heard. She yells a bit—presumably at the dozens of cats that are swirling around on the floor of her filthy home—and the door slams shut.

Passing her house, there are a couple of young wigger girls walking down the street. One is wearing pajamas and her friend is dressed as what appears to be a Harlem Globetrotter. As they pass by me, I overhear this conversation:

“Shit is crazy—people be taking pitchers on they phone in lingerie....”

“That girl ain't but fiteen years old. She need to set her ass down.”