Who's Laughing Now?

Lucy is laughing now...if she is still alive. Lucy was this batty old lady who lived behind the Tillsonburg Upper Deck youth centre where I worked for four years. We had a lot of fun with Lucy and she really did hold a special place in our hearts. The feelings were never mutual. Lucy resented us and the kids that our centre attracted. All ages of teenagers would frequent our place to play pool, shoot hoops, buy pizza, or chat at our snack counter. Her attempts to drive them away were hopeless. The broom beatings and tongue lashings only served to encourage the youth to bother her more. I truly believe that even though our presence was a ministry to the young people, it played a part in pushing Lucy further into her madness. She simply could not tolerate the "riff raff" of society hanging out in front of her house.

Across the street from where I live in Bolivia, a new madness has had it's grand opening. The neighbour in front of us has decided to turn his place into a billards establishment. First of all, please understand that I love to play pool. However, pool places in Bolivia have a certain character and reputation. They attract the "riff raff" of society. My mouth gaped in disbelief as I watched the man and his friends carry three green felted tables onto his patio. My rantings and ravings began almost immediately and I debated how to rid our street of this dark presence. I wondered if berating graffiti would do the trick. I thought to give that man a piece of my mind. Perhaps a call to my landlord or an angry complaint to the Flamingo neighbourhood board would make this nightmare disappear. Meanwhile, my pessimistic mutterings have been met with much amusement by my friends, Adreana and Greg. They think I'm over reacting and exaggerating the seriousness of the situation. So far, they say, there have only been 12 year olds playing the pockets. For now they may be right, but I still have visions of passed out drunk men laying on the street dancing in my head. I envision inebriated punks peeing on my bushes and I hear the pounding bass of their music-less music.

Go ahead and laugh Lucy. My broom is ready for the riff raff.