I first noticed the blue Tyvek tent while driving to work. It was tied to a sycamore tree outside our apartment, stretching from the sidewalk to the edge of our lawn. When I returned home, I saw the homeless man. He looked to be in his 30s, white, a bit pudgy. He was asleep, half in and half out of the tent. I parked in the rear carport where my neighbor Joseph greeted me.
“Can you believe that prick,” Joseph said. “The balls on that guy.”
“Who,” I asked.
“The homeless guy in front. I called the police but they said there’s nothing they can do unless he threatens us or commits a crime.”