I don’t think anyone can be held responsible for what happened last night. Not after the 7th bottle of wine anyway. Regardless, none of it was my idea. I can swear by that at least. So if you do have to start pointing fingers at people just be sure to point them somewhere else. Who invited those girls anyway? I thought they were friends with one of the neighbors but Mr. and Mrs. Every-god-damn-thing-is-an-issue were over here first thing this morning complaining so that theory is right out. All I know is they weren’t there at first, but after they showed up it was as it they’d been here the entire time. As if they were supposed to be here. Like everyone expected them to be. And they kind of did, after a while anyway.

Now I can’t even remember their names, but last night I would have told you they were my closest friends on the planet. And I’d have meant it. Even with all that monkey business. It’s weird because I honestly never want to see them again, and at the same time I’m going to be disappointed when I walk into the living room and they aren’t there. Don’t look at me like that! I already said it wasn’t my idea.

It used to be such a nice, quaint neighborhood. There were flowers and landscaping, welcome mats and ornamental mailboxes. On weekend, wives would bring lemonade on a tray out to their husbands while they washed the family car by hand. It used to be a place you where you never thought about if it was safe, because you just knew it was. That changed after the war, kids playing in yards were replaced by gangbangers standing on corners. Pitbulls replaced poodles. Windowsills with cooling pies were replaced by wrought iron bars. And the graffiti. That was the worst. The thugs occasionally went inside, but their tags were ever present. A clear sign to anyone passing through telling them exactly who was in charge around here.

“Is that a banana in your pocket or… oh, it is a banana. Figures.”

Cristal is the hooker that works the block in front of my apartment in the Mission. I feel like that should be a weird thing to say but when I think of the places I’ve called home over the years it’s anything but. Frighteningly normal even. Cristal is friendly enough, she knows I’m not client material so has no need to front and always has something to say. And the fact that she is missing several teeth hasn’t seemed to impact her sense of humor in the least.

I can’t take another minute of Rachel Ray.