On the streets of this city there are denizens. They live close by, maybe next to your house, but not in a house. "Dave" lives next to my house. Under a blanket and a tent tarp behind an abandoned storefront, he curls up nightly with fresh booze. Maybe it's a 40 oz bottle. Maybe a 16oz can in paper. In the morning he's gone. Gone down the street checking each of the black garbage cans for something useful. I see him each morning as I walk to get the paper. Sometimes I see him at night with a friend and a plastic bag of booze. The building is abandoned. Why doesn't he break in?