The Empty Beer Cans

Now I'm a normie, but I'm a 'seasoned' normie. I have more familiarization with drug use because of my kid than I wish to. My druthers are I would like to be able to press the rewind button and be able to not choose my daughter getting involved in drugs, in that 'world' and in being a recovering addict. Where was that button, because I would have gladly chosen unenlightenment.
Yesterday walking the dog, I notice junk on the ground next to my car (mine's the one with the cute, little car-cover). Ick .... what is that stuff ... someone had a little party here I'm thinking, cuz' it's a plastic shopping bag with beer cans (empty of course). Well, they were picky little bugers, I decide, because each tall can is an individual brand name beer.
Ummmm.....closer though, I notice the tiny, tiny plastic packet, now also empty, a pen casing separate from its contents, erghhhhhh, these things are familiar to me as signs of meth use.
Already I am imagining what this looked like last night. Hush tones, excessive, meaningless talk, I wondered what the mix of beer and meth did. Does it heighten the high or is it to help to sleep, another sign of meth use (can't sleep or excessive sleeping). My world of words change, the jargon of drugs spins in my mind and I imagine icky, scary people: bad teeth, bad skin, messy-hair people, dark and dirty. I conjure up that their messy hair is to hide their horns but dismiss the image because that made-up picture is too innocent for this. Scary. What happens in that dark world happened here, right here. I feel so violated.
I look around the day's goings-on and notice the familiar maintenance guy for my apartment complex and point out the things to him. I decide that's what you are supposed to do. I even tell him I know there's nothing that can be done about it, but 'I wanted to show you just in case'. (Just in case what?) He and I discuss it a bit and he says 'yeah, you wish you could do more.'
I told him (because it is my habit, because I think perhaps it will somehow serve a purpose) that my 'perfectly adorable daughter' used and she is now clean. I think I am trying to remind myself that 'those kids' are 'our kids,' that those kids have mothers who know that deep inside they are perfectly adorable too.
He tells me that he will be sure to clean it up and I'm embarrassed because I certainly didn't show it to him for that purpose.
"You like to think we live in a safe place," he tells me.
"Oh, wait, lets stop there," I insist, because I need to, because I want the talk to stop, or because I need it to stop there, right there. "We live in a safe place," I say to him. "Let's say 'we live in a safe place," I appeal. Nervously and to divert his attention from my mother-of-a-recovering-addict needs, I add, "Now, don't f*ck with me," hoping my normie cute-mom look is working for me.
"No, I wouldn't do that," he laughs, "I haven't even had coffee yet," and he wishes me a good day.
I am still a lil' bit shaky as I write, but I'm holding hope and I really like the boringness of normies, normal people, telling other normies, 'to have a good day!' That is the way it should be.