There are a lot of State Housing and charity-owned home units dotted around my suburb, and many of them are inhabited by some of the stranger members of our species. They certainly make life interesting.
There is the wolf man around the corner who literally bays at the moon when his next modicate injection is nearly due, and "hoody boy" who sits on the grass outside his unit for hours at a time, resolutely not watching people passing by. There are half a dozen dark-browed mutterers who walk the streets locked in urgent conversation with themselves, and the manic hoarder around the corner, with his yard full of rotting vegetables and his driveway blocked with rusting wrecks of cars.
There is even a genuine tin-foil hat wearer, who uses a cigarette lighter pressed into the back of his neck for extra shielding power when the CIA's signals are at their strongest.
Never a dull moment around here!