This story may be apocryphal (i.e., complete utter horseshit), but the fact that I can even believe its authenticity for a minute is testament to the brilliance of life here in Oregon's real-life Capital City.
So I was listening to the radio, and a caller phoned in to the show to tell the story of his encounter with Salemites the night before. He was driving home from work, which was some time past midnight since he worked the late shift, going through some of the residential thoroughfare combo roads that are prevalent in Salem, especially on the north side. As he was going down Cherry St., he had to slow down because there was a small group of people in the middle of the road (and he wanted to avoid manslaughter charges, I presume). Eventually they disperse and move to the side, allowing him to pass.
He goes up the street a little bit, then pulls over to the side to take a look back to see "what the deal was with these guys". As he looks back, he sees that one of the group pulls out a crowbar...and goes to town on a manhole cover in the middle of the street. That's right, what our caller witnessed was probably a fortnightly occurrence in Salem Towne, the swarm of Meth-heads looking for pieces of scrap metal to sell for their next fix. Because while Meth-heads don't possess the ingenuity to break into your car and steal your stereo like your garden-variety crackhead, they have the Meth-strength to bust the shit out of some metal objects. Hence, your scene with the crowbar.
To be sure, I'm going to be avoiding Cherry St. in all my travels around town.
2 comments:
Wow. That is a new one on me. But then again, it really doesn't surprise me either. I mean, I've had my car broken into and whatever breed of tweeker did it stole my Jack In The Box trash and left a Carl's Jr number in there. I can only say that it was strange.
I love that given the insane levels of police activity that I've witnessed in Salem over the past couple years, this went by without notice.
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