For the second time since Saturday night, there was a murder in our neighborhood again last night. I say “our neighborhood” because it took place in the Irish Channel — though not within eyesight of our house. But y’know.

New Orleans is a city where Thug and Joe Average often live literally next door to one another, so no neighborhood is immune. It’s pretty easy to walk down most streets and point out who lives where, just by looking at the cars and observing who’s hanging out at which place. The rules are pretty simple too — don’t hang with the drug crowd and you pretty much stay out of trouble. We can sit on our front stoop and watch folks amble by and it’s usually pretty easy to point out those who are involved, since they might as well have little Sims-type identifiers floating above their heads. Just watch where they’re going and living and who they’re hanging with.

…but it gets old, y’know?

Related posts:

1. Same story, a little closer to home
2. The Story of My So-Called Life
3. Non-Story of the Day
4. 4am in the morning
5. Weirdass