Atlantans and their Social Exclusion

The other day I took the dog to the Oakhurst Dog Park. This time, I ignored the sign and walked in. What sign, you ask? Dear reader! Don't you know? The big one that says"For the use of Decatur City residents only"! The one that warns you to make sure you have the proper Decatur City dogtags.

I thought people wouldn't notice or mind. But, alas, I should have guessed. My dog and I were shunned like a retard in a cafeteria. I took my second-class ass back to unincorporated Dekalb.

This neighborhood exclusivity is endemic in Atlanta, and, frankly, it sucks royal shit. Like those pretentious fucks at Avondale Estates, with their Olde Englishe Streete Signes. If you try to get there from, oh, say, Katie Kerr Street (anyone still reading?) you have to wind down and around, past the bombed out apartment buildings (which, by the way, they're renovating as each tenant's lease ends, so that they can be repopulated with richer [and, I'm sure they hope, whiter] tenants who will appreciate the new gables), and past the place where they fenced off the place where Fairfielde Streete used to connect with Forrest Blvd. How nice it would be to be able to walk in through that way. But, no, to get to that suburban gem, Avondale Lake, you must go all the way down Forrest Blvd.

And when you arrive, you and your dog are greeted with another sign: For the use of Avondale Estates residents only. I must say, the people of Avondale Estates are less open with their disdain. The black fishermen always have a friendly "How you doin'?" And sometimes the perky mother with her jogging stroller offers a strained smile.

And then there's the other side. When I jog through Avondale, drivers always wave. When I'm driving through Avondale, I wave, too. (Black pedestrians often seem puzzled by this -- maybe waves don't usually cross the racial divide?)

Speaking of driving, what's up with Atlantans' propensity to declare their neighborhood identity on their cars? Avondale Estates people have their own proud stickers, and Decatur City people have their little Decatur City front license plates. (Cobb County dickwads just have Bush stickers.)

And let's not forget the street signs. Decatur's municipal government must devote half of its budget to putting up and maintaining signs at every intersection that borders another jurisdiction, lest there be any mistake that you're entering or leaving Decatur City. It's such a jaunty, seventies-looking little sign. But you don't even have to look at it to tell when you've crossed over: the asphalt changes.

Well, gotta run. I'm going over to Walmart to watch the construction.