Gene, Roni's roomie, knocked on her door, saying something about a band setting up at the intersection of Webster and Macallister. I was sleepy enough to think it was a dream of some sort, at least until they started to play.
Next thing I know I'm seeing people walking by, carrying signs. Next thing you know about a quarter of a million people are walking by.
If you look closely at that last one, in the lower left hand corner you'll note the white lexus SUV that was parked in Roni's driveway. Annoyingly enough, even with the march we could have driven out any time. The result was Roni was driven into one of those low blood sugar funks that happens when she's pushed past her usual feeding schedule. When the march finally ended (after about 90 minutes of this flow of humanity) we were waiting for the tow truck to show up when this woman emerges from the projects across the street.
Apologetic? Of course not. She started with the attitude before she even got across the street. She got Roni so pissed she called her a "cunt" (and that was one of the milder epithets hurled). I don't think I was particularly pissed until a "friend" shows up hauling a crowbar, which is a red flag in anyone's book. The chutzpah of calling us out for disrespect when you park your big ass SUV in a clearly marked driveway for several hours is SO over the top.
Anyway, we pealed out from there and headed up to Los Trancas for lunch. We were halfway there before Roni pondered how someone living in the projects would even HAVE a lexus to illegally park. The possibilities weren't pretty.
Now, with food in our bellies and "Ghost" on the We network, things are a LOT mellower. At least, if you discount the usual street noise...