When It Rains It Po's On You Drug Dealin Ho's!

I live in a middle class neighborhood in a suburb of a large mid western city that's shoreline runs along one of the Great Lakes. Our neighborhood is usually quiet with the exception of an occasional domestic disturbance or kid's just out having some fun and then being hassled by the local police since the crime rate is so low, and they have nothing but time on their hands to chase kid's around and make it look like major crimes have been committed. But low and behold, real crime made it's way into our virtually crime free zone this year, something new came to our quiet little homogenized neighborhood this past year in the form of drug dealing and how it finally played out was very interesting. You see, there is a rental house across the street from my home and for the past year we have been witness to the comings and goings of the tenants and their "friends". At first there were only a few people going in and out during the day until last week when there was a constant line of human wreckage in such numbers that they should have put in a drive up or walk up window. A most diverse crowd from teenage kids, several thugs that looked like they were just let out of the super max, a white girl that showed up with a different black guy every day about the same time (my guess ho-in fo drugs), a couple of guy's in business clothes and the suburban housewives in the SUV's and minivans who would sit at the curb trying to look nonchalant before running to the back door for whatever.

The whole cast was there, the bust out tenant and his girlfriend who sold or past the drugs to the customers. Then there was the dealer, a black guy that I call Cedric the Entertainer, I apologize to Cedric The Entertainer who I actually like if he is insulted, but this guy looked just like him. Then there was "Cedric's" driver who would pull up in a new bright red four door high performance car made by a company that was recently owned by a certain German company, and just sit and wait for his boss to run into the house, apparently to collect money and would drive off like Starsky & Hutch when "Cedric" finally materialized with his pockets stuffed full of cash. Then there were the mules or that's what they used to call them when I was in my twenty's who would show up and drop the drugs at the apartment after Cedric and his driver had left the premises, I always presume with the money from earlier sales. As I said earlier this started out very slowly and then took off like they were offering a buy one hit get one free deal.

This was going on for about a year when the neighborhood finally got tired of the traffic and one of the neighbors called the police. Now for the interesting part. In a town where the police crack down on the most trivial of offenses and hassle every kid they can stop for any stupid reason, I can't understand how this one slipped by them. This is news, blotter entry stuff in the suburbs. The stuff great gossip and other over dinner conversation is made of, maybe even urban legend status if handled properly. But it didn't play out that way at all, the police were reluctant to charge in a kick down the doors of a rental unit even though it was obvious there were drugs being move briskly out the door. When I asked them if there were aware of the drug sales at the specific address they said they couldn't drive up with a "marked unit" and would have to defer to the detective division for disposition, what a bunch of p_ _ _ y men was the first thing that came to mind. These guy's who intimidate every kid they can get within earshot were reluctant if not outright opposed to looking into something with the most negative far reaching consequences if left to continue. It was the landlord that finally had to resolve the situation himself, he terminated the rental agreement and sent the dealers packing under cover of darkness in one day. So, as fate would have it, the dealers will have to find themselves a new rental house to work out of, probably rented by "Cedric the Entertainer" and his driver and they will go on with their pathetic lives dishing out their poison to whoever comes along with a taste for it, unhindered by any local suburban police department until the neighbors get tired of the nonsense and drive them out on their own.

There is really no moral to this story other than to say it's probably better to handle most issues in quiet suburban towns like mine, unaided or should I say unhindered by the local constabulary. I guess the real meaning of the slogan "To Serve and protect" carries about as much weight as the slogan" We make our donuts fresh every day"