(no subject)

[which_chick]

Well, hell. New Orleans is still there, a bit damp, but still there. On the other hand, hurricane season ain't over yet. We'll see.

Kind of a quiet day at work today. Tenant Michelle V. got the letter telling her that we are not renewing her lease. She's apparently looking for new housing. According to Joyce over at Housing, Michelle apparently thinks that we are not renewing her lease because the police have been to her apartment too often. No, Michelle, that's not it.



The problem, sweetie, is that you're selling heroin out of your apartment and, therefore, have addicts coming and going at all hours of the day and night. It's a disruptive situation that annoys our other tenants. We don't really think you're going to stop doing it anytime soon. We've decided to not-renew-your-lease in order to get rid of you because we're tired of waiting for the state police to show up and arrest you. Apparently they're in the same boat we are -- they know you're dealing and they can't quite prove it. Fortunately, we do not have to wait for the police. Your lease ends in early October. We have given you thirty days notice that we are not renewing your lease. As the police are very, very interested in you, we expect you to move BEFORE we have to sic Melvin (the constable) on your ass.

Good luck with renting a new place, because anyone who calls us to ask how we feel about you as a tenant is going to get an earful...

Well, she did pay the rent, but there were an awful lot of people coming and going at all hours of the day and night -- there was never a moment's peace with her in the building. No, I don't know what on earth all those people could possibly have wanted, but none of them ever stayed very long. Ten, fifteen minutes maximum. Some of them had a driver waiting in the car with the engine running while they ran in to visit. Mostly they were young people, you know, with all the tattoos and the nose rings and like that? Those kinds of people, coming and going at all hours, never staying very long at all. I've no idea what they wanted but they sure were persistant about coming around. I don't know, maybe you'll be happier with her than we were -- just the number of visitors she had really annoyed our other tenants. It was a real problem and we're happy to see her moving on.

There's just one thing, Michelle, that I have to ask -- why'd you come in the office today to get a letter stating the amount of your rent? I know you said it was so that you could apply for food stamps, but dude, you sell heroin for a living. I thought that was the route to easy riches. In the movies, drug dealers have all fucking kinds of money. They don't fucking apply for food stamps. Are you SURE you're a drug dealer? I mean, I'm pretty sure that's what you do for a living, but you sure don't look like it. Where's your bling-bling? You've got some poorly-executed tattoos and a couple of pieces of metal which would be sort of sexy if you were less of a skank, but there's nothing precious on you. I understand that you're rural and white and there's a lot less of a cultural push for rural white people to get all jiggy with the bling, but seriously. You're letting down the team, girlfriend. Also, why the *hell* are you renting a second floor walk-up that you share with your five children (one an infant), your boyfriend (Father of the infant. The other four children have three fathers.) who beats you up, and the blond girl who babysits in exchange for drugs and sleeps on the couch in violation of the lease? What the fuck is that action? Do you really think this is an appropriate lifestyle for someone in your position? You're living like poor white trash, not like a successful drug dealer. Where are your damn standards? Also, why the fuck are the lot of you in that apartment getting by with one very, very beat-up purple Chevy Cavalier for transportation? Shouldn't there be a Porsche? I'm very disappointed in you, Michelle. Very disappointed.

Comments

[electroweak.livejournal.com]

You're living like poor white trash, not like a successful drug dealer.

Perhaps drug dealing is like Amway. There's the one smarmy bastard at the top who's making money, and everyone else is doing very badly and annoying the ever-lovin' hell out of their family and neighbors.

[which-chick.livejournal.com]

It's a lot like that. Leavitt's recent book Freakonomics has an interesting take on the drug trade.

"Because the typical street dealer earns less than minimum wage, so they can't afford *not* to live with their moms. In one chapter, we present an economic analysis of a Chicago crack gang. A wonderful sociologist named Sudhir Venkatesh (now at Columbia) essentially lived with the gang for 6 years, and was given their financial records. Levitt was able to lay out their business structure, which looks an awful lot like the structure of McDonald's. There's a lot of money to be made at the top of the pyramid but it's a very big pyramid, and anyone near the bottom is not making much money at all."

Source: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/discussion/2005/06/01/DI2005060101640.html (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/discussion/2005/06/01/DI2005060101640.html)

Also, I've read the book and that is, to the best of my recollection, what the book said.

Good call, there!

[ksleet.livejournal.com]

It is, actually.

There's a rather fascinating chapter in that Freakonomics book (title: "Why do most drug dealers live with their mothers?") about a Chicago economics professor who got a hold of the books for one of the city's toughest street gangs and carefully analyzed them to see how they worked financially. It pretty much runs exactly like Amway or any other multi-level marketing scheme: all the cash flows upwards and only the top guys can make even a middle-class living. For your average gangbanger it really and truly would be a better living to work at McDonald's (not to mention that instead of getting shot you only have to worry about clogged arteries.) The footsoldiers keep at it because they dream they can become the guy at the top of the gang, which is a somewhat better living than becoming manager of the McDonald's. For that one guy.

[ksleet.livejournal.com]

Awk! You beat me to it!

[which-chick.livejournal.com]

Sorry, Levitt's book. My typo.

[electroweak.livejournal.com]

I'm glad to see my economic instincts about the drug trade were correct. However, what it says about me that my economic instincts were correct is perhaps best left unsaid by persons of good breeding and taste.

[which-chick.livejournal.com]

Since I've neither good breeding nor good taste, I'll bite. What does it say about you that your economic instincts were correct? Perhaps that you're clueful? I knew that already. :)

[cousin-sue.livejournal.com]

the drug dealers in my family show that this premise is exactly true.

They're going nowhere fast, and it is, of course, everyone else's fault, not their own.

Then too, they are stupid enough to use their wares instead of just selling them.

[electroweak.livejournal.com]

It says I either understand (if one is polite) or have (if one is not polite) a criminal mind.