Our Upscale Ghetto

We live in a nice development, in a nice little growing community. All the houses are new. Everything looks polished and clean (thanks association). The yards are trimmed in the summer. The sidewalks are cleared in the winter. But it just so happens that the street we live on is the ghetto of this nice little growing community. I walked out of my pretty little kitchen this afternoon, and glanced through my pretty little bay window. My eyes were greeted by what is becoming a familiar sight-- a police car parked across the street. Remember last May when our cozy little ghetto was swarming with cops when they busted the meth lab? That was only one of the six times the police have visited our ghetto in the last year. Know what? The heart of the ghetto lives across the street. Know what else? We live in a garage-door community. I have only seen 5 of our 16 neighbors in the past year-and-a-half that we've lived here. I have never even SEEN whom else lives in these houses surrounding us. I guess that's okay. You don't want to make too many friends in the ghetto.