Thursday, May 16, 2013

Meth for Two

A meth ring operates out of my office parking lot. I just know it.

Today, while circling the asphalt because I am too cheap and lazy to write another $3 check to the Park Service (sad, but true, fact), I began to take notice of two truths:

1. There are an uncanny number of lizards lurking in the parking islands and

2. Questionable people come here to do questionable things.

In recent weeks, I've noticed an uncomfortable number of police cars and bullet shells.

It can be argued that any number of either of these would be too many. But let's just say - for the devil's sake - that the two dozen I've seen of each would constitute a cause for concern.

For those of you who don't know, I work in an office building that's just off the beaten path. A little secluded, the place shares a lot with an abandoned office building and, as mentioned, a lot of lizards. There are multiple entrances (and therefore exits), and many places to hide.

What I'm telling you is, it's a "you won't get caught here" kind of spot.

The kind of place you take your mistress to cheat on your wife.

The kind of place you go to sneak a smoke of something less than legal.

The kind of place you go to hide just after you've done something nefarious.

So, you know, it's great people watching.

Anyway, among the litter of shady souls I saw enter and exit the lot on my hour-walk, there was a woman - dark shades, car with had-to-be-illegal tint on the windows -, several men who looked over their respective shoulders too often and too quickly for comfort, and a cop who parked entirely too far away from the action to actually be "in pursuit" of anything other than a dark corner.

I like to think the cop is the leader of the ring.

And glasses lady and the trio of shoulder starers?

His henchmen.

I say that, of course, with no proverbial "smoking gun." (Do shells count?)

I don't have a discarded bag of meth or tube of meth or flask of meth or whatever meth comes in. There's no telling stain on the pavement. I haven't found a body in the woods (yet!).

But baggies and bodies aside, I remain convinced that my lot is the place to be for folks at whose place it ain't safe to be.

And that makes me feel like I'm midday walking up on some of ATL's seediest, degenerate, depraved, corrupt criminals.

So naturally I waved to them.

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