anti-prose. random matter.
dirty alleys
Published on May 16, 2008 By crimson In Blogging

There's dirty houses, buildings, streets, and neighbourhoods, but nothing beats a good dirty alley.

I don't have a whole list of streets in town to avoid, but like most towns, there's always a back alley with a discarded pair of underwear, a single shoe, and a bunch of random bottles, dead dry, of course.

I literally hang out in one back alley on a regular basis, having been prohibited to loiter (ie: smoke) in either the front or side of the building of where I work.  Because I've got brief moments to spend my precious minutes of a break and I usually need both a coffee fix, and time for a phone call of my own or two, I often stand against the back wall of the building, looking to the back of bar, restaraunt, and nearby POINTS establishment while puffing away on a cancer stick. It's not my preferred choice to be on a near daily basis, but until I get my own private office where I make the rules and break 'em, I'm sure I'll spend a lot more time there in the future as well.

In this alley as well, I've seen discarded underwear, bottles, and many people who happen to drop by to hunt for discarded cigarettes. Reduce, reuse, recycle indeed. 

I've also seen a lot of guys drop it to pee against the building, neverminding onlookers like me, too drunk from spending too much time at money at the bar across the road. They get mad when you flick your still burning cigarette at them without apology.

I've seen fights between co-workers in that alley, heard of (pathetic) hook-ups that happen in that alley, and have overheard a million forgettable conversations in that alley. The sad thing is, I sometimes dream about being in that alley. Fuck. There's no such thing as contolling a dream, or I'd avoid it if given an option.  


I know you're wondering if there's a point, and sadly, there isn't. Just wanted to write about alleys today, okay?

on May 17, 2008

I used to think alleys were cool.

Then I got held up at gunpoint in one.

I'm no longer a fan.

on May 17, 2008
I know you're wondering if there's a point, and sadly, there isn't. Just wanted to write about alleys today, okay?

Points? Who needs points? I find that life goes a lot smoother if you forget about trying to figure out the point all the time. I think the point to the whole thing is there isn't a point. There! When you see it like that it certainly answers a lot of questions doesn't it?

Anyway, I LOVED this Nick. Very gritty and real. And VERY well written in my opinion.   
on May 17, 2008

And VERY well written in my opinion.


And in my opinion, too.

on May 17, 2008

I always like looking into your head. Alleys, now that's a cool subject.

For the most part alleys get a bad wrap. Dark alleys. Back alley deals. Abortions in the back alley. Has anyone ever seen that one? Alley cats.

You getting a little break from work in the alley is the only good thing I can think of.

Anyway, good to read ya.


on May 17, 2008
Then I got held up at gunpoint in one.
I'm no longer a fan.

That is definitely a bad thing. Glad you made it out of that one.
on May 18, 2008

Some of the best photos I've ever seen have been photos of back alleys and the detritus they seem to collect.

Good read, Nic.

on May 20, 2008

I'll be honest about this: my town is simply a quiet, out of the way town. It's not huge and its pretty artsy as far as most communities go. Most alleys in the downtown core are even spruced up: brightly painted, clean patio areas in what usually would be dank, dreary and possibly dangerous.

My hangout ain't pretty (random bottles, butts, and assorted trash items here and there) but like the majority of places it gets cleaned out on a very frequent basis. It's almost strange how clean this town is, and you can definitely tell where the brunt of our tax dollars go.