When you are dark-haired and -skinned, and wearing black clothes, perhaps walking down the center of the road in the middle of the night is not a good thing. Even if you are wearing silver athletic shoes.
That probably wasn't someone from the trailer park, but someone from the projects behind the trailer park.
Last summer, when we were new here, I was being driven crazy by very loud music coming from somewhere. We ruled out its genesis being here in the trailer park, and so we brilliantly decided to go for a drive to try to find out where it was coming from.
We wound up in the subdivision behind where we live. We are deceptively close to one of the nicest suburbs of San Antonio; it's very hard to tell where it ends and the projects begin. It was late at night and there were virtually no streetlights, so we got very lost, but we eventually found that one of the townhouses had a live band in the back yard. Seriously. There was a party complete with live band in the projects. I don't get it (but I'm thinking some folks are worse at money management than I!).
Anyhow, we went home & Rob called the sheriff's department to complain about the party & see if anything could be done. See, there's a noise ordinance in San Antonio, but we're right outside the city limits. Literally across the street is SA, but we're just Bexar county. No noise ordinance here, but they'll go out & say something to folks if it's a party getting rowdy (and we discovered, by the by, that several other folks had apparently called to make the same complaint).
Well, Rob told the fellow who answered that we'd gone driving around to try to find an address, but the best we'd been able to come up with was a street name. The response shocked us. "Oh, you went back into _____? You're brave. Don't do that again."
Um, yes, Deputy. We'll be taking your advice.