The name of my street

What a sad, screwed up world.  I would love to give you all the details of my life, the name of our vending company, for instance.  I thought Ron did a good job with it. 

I would love to tell you which Foodtown, and which buses I ride, and call Favorite Dollar by it's real name.  I'd love to say where I live in Houston, etc.  I'd like to talk about which malls I visit and the stores I shop. 

But it is a screwed up world, with very sick people.  I am more vulnerable because I do ride the bus.  Car people can run into a place, and run out again.  I can't.  Odds are I will have to walk part of the way there, and wait outside for 20-30 minutes, if not longer, on a bus.  Couple that with the known fact that I never go out at night... and safety. 

Compounding all that; the images of the office shooting when I was 13.  Wondering if my father was at work, and if he was alive or dead.  The terror of wondering if he'd come home, and our relief when he did. 

The shooter was a stalker.  Hell, I didn't even put up a hurricane photo, a rather spectacular one at that, because the name of my street was clearly visible.