No Trespassing

I took a different way home today after work. I got off early, right about lunch time, so instead of going home and eating a tortilla peanut butter wrap I treated myself to a subway sandwich to go. When I left subway I was smiling, happy about the healthy lunch that was 12 inches long that I would be eating on my afternoon of freedom. So when I looked up a side street and saw a F.U.B.A.R trailor park hidden from the public view, I thought what the hell, I am going to cross through the shanty village on a quest for a short cut home.

I followed a long haired man who limped briskly through the parks entrance. I had the feeling that both his knee caps had been busted long ago in a whaling accident or possibly by an angry meth dealer collecting debt. The man turned behind a painted brick wall and disappeared into trailer that was missing a door but in its place hung a thin pink cloth (possibly an old night gown) to keep out the weather and the burglars. I can't accurately describe this place... It was a very poor trailer park, on a hill, behind the subway and McDonald's dumpster. Little Mexican children scurried into their trailers, hiding from me as I walked up the dirt path that wound through their filthy ghetto. There were clothes lines with laundry blowing in the wind. A big dumpster served as the town square. And toys were scattered everywhere.

I briefly pondered how people could live in such poverty in the middle of such an affluent city but honestly I was more concerned with my subway sandwich and the quest to find a middle passage to my luxurious apartment.

I continued walking until I came to a dead end. A head of me I could see what used to be a gate but had been fenced off. It had a sign facing outward to the street which I couldn't read from my side of the fence. It probably read "no trespassing", or "keep out", or "vote for Kerry"... I stared at the fence for a while wishing I could press a titanium communicator badge on my left breast and ask Scotty to beam me to my living room so I could wolf down my sandwich named after an underwater killing vessel. Eventually though I turned around and started for the main road and my conventional route home.

A man was in his yard about 8 feet away from me blocking my way. I said, "hi" and he nodded back. He asked me what I was doing and I told him I was trying to find a path to the high road. He looked at me coldly confused and then shook his head as if I were a giant disappointment to the human race.
"this is private property, you are trespassing right now."
I was stunned. I am not sure why I was stunned. Perhaps I didn't like the fact that a poor man living in a dilapitated trailer was questioning me--a middle classer. It could have been be because the guy wasn't the sort that would invite me in for a cold beer and tell me war stories about Nam. Or maybe I was mystified by the concept of land ownership and property rights--that is probably what I was thinking...

I looked the man in the eyes as to say, "we could have been good friends, you and me. All of human history has led to one moment and it is this one. Appreciate this blessing and do not ruin it all with law!" all this cheesy brotherly love stuff was going on in this look I gave the guy and then I politely nodded my head and apologized and he nodded his head in acceptance and I went on my way though shanty town and out the other side.