One of the first questions that people ask me when they find out I live in Anaheim is, "do you go to Disneyland?". The answer is No because to visit the happiest place on earth will make you the poorest person on earth. They charge close to $100 to see a mouse. If I want to see mice, I just need to move the fridge really fast (kidding). Anaheim is in Orange County and many of the locals call it Anacrime or Anaslime. Here is why. First of all, Beach boulevard is filled with hookers and motels. The liquor stores are filled with surveillance and shady characters that linger and loiter. Once a black hooker walked in the store with her John and she was yelling, "don't act like you'se all innocent. You ain't innocent". The John gave a perverted smile. He was missing teeth. I'm guessing meth. Next, you have people of all races and creeds of weirdos. Anaheim also has tons of Arabs and Mexicans. On Brookhurst, you can get the best kabobs and tacos. It's not uncommon to see girls in full on Burkas walking the street. I feel safe since wearing a beard makes me look like one of them.
When I first moved here, about 9 months ago, I was confident that this place couldn't be worse than L.A county. The first weeks of moving in, I would fall asleep to the sweet sound of helicopters overhead. That sound was merged with the sound of sirens. Ah! sweet urban music to my ears. I had a Salvadorean couple behind me that would yell when they talked and at first , it was a challenge getting sleep. Plus once in a while, the husband's machismo would get threatened and he would yell at his wife for "disrespecting" him. There are also many homeless people that love leaving the market carts outside the apartment. This only adds to the decor. We used to have drug dealing neighbors but they were replaced by a Mexican family of a thousand. True story: The new neighbor put some grease on the floor to remove stains. Once, as I was walking through the common walk way, I slipped on the downward slope, banged my elbow on the floor, hit my knee and slipped back dropping my coffee on the floor. It was kind of like the cartoon where the dude slips on a bannana peel. On another occasion, my girlfriend found a piece of shit. A literal piece of shit on the floor that looked human. (don't ask). On another occasion, this drunk Mexican dude covered his mouth, turned around quickly and puked by the parking lot. Then there is the crack head neighbor. He's a 30+ Mexican dude that hangs out at the parking lot drinking beers with his buddies while blasting music. I'd see him and he'd wave but that was all. Once, he approached me all sketchy and I said, "what's up?" "Hey can I borrow two dollars," he asked me. I said sure. 2nd occasion: He approached me and asked me for $5. I said sure. He paid me back both times. The third time he asked, he was hanging out by the entrance with a kid on a Friday night. He had those sketchy eyes. I dashed to my apartment so he wouldn't ask me for money. I'm in and I hear a knock on my door! It was crackhead man. This time he was asking for $10. I said no. He asked for $5 and I said I was broke. Three strikes you're out.
Well yesterday I see a U-haul truck blocking my parking spot and It's an older black lady that is moving in to the neighborhood with her son that is graduating from college. "How is it around here?" she asked. "Cool" I respond. " "I heard the landlord is kinda, I don't know how is he?". I said, "he's ok. he just has a bad memory? "What do you mean he has a bad memory!?" I changed the subject. Today I see the nice, black lady and she tells me she's getting the hell out. "I don't feel safe here," she tells me. She then goes on that a guy was begging her for money and was told that people hop the fence all the time. "I'm getting the hell out and I'm going to go to war with the landlord for the deposit." "Good luck" I tell her. " "Oh it ain't about luck" "It aint about luck" she reaffirms. That sucks. She would've been a good neighbor.