So there I was, standing in front of a teetering rubble pile of bricks and wood that used to be a house, making my notes, and standing not ten feet away from a large garbage-bag-sized drug deal, whenupon one of the gentlemen declared to another gentleman in a car, to the question of what he might want, that he "wants at least some weed, (cultural expletive)." As he shook the for-now-empty garbage bag, cackling, I asked the gentleman whether he could confirm the date of the demise of the brick home. He informed that it had been like that for a minute. I deduced that he was being facetious.