So first my apologies for not posting in like a badrillion years. I’ve been doing things, ok? Second, my apologies for pausing a brief moment to post about something other than running. When I get my act together, I’ll get back to the running posts. I know all four of my readers are waiting with breath that is bated.
Okay. So last night was a very bizarre night and a very sad example of how twisted and into dramz I can be despite my claims that I’m not and that I hate it. I came home from a very stressful meeting and was sitting on the couch in tears. I was crying because my life was falling apart. All of a sudden KP and I hear a horrible howling for help from outside. It was a woman screaming and crying “SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE! SOMEBODY PLEASE!” Immediately I stopped wallowing in self pity and jumped off the couch and ran over to the window. KP did too. We peered out to see our neighbors that live below us (are they still neighbors if they don’t live next door to you? For the purposes of this blog I’ll say yes) in a bad fight.
I need to give you some back story here…we call these neighbors Tweak and Crank. We call them that because KP is convinced they’re addicted to drugs. Here is our proof: 1) One time the girl came upstairs and asked for some salt. To KP’s amazement, the chick stood there and took about two cups. She claimed it was for “spaghetti”. (Note to self, never go to Tweak and Crank’s for dinner) A quick Googs search prooves salt is a key ingredient to meth. 2) EVERY time I see them they are coming home with fast food. That isn’t great proof in and of itself but combined with the fact that the girl is about as big around as my pinky, IS. I have tried the Taco Bell 7x a week diet (don’t judge I was in college) and it doesn’t make you a size -2, trust me. 3) They just seem like they are.
That said, we weren’t too surprised to see this happening. So the girl comes stumbling up the stairs to the parking lot with a box full of clothes and she’s bawling. He comes up the stairs after her and starts throwing and kicking more of her clothes all over the parking lot and screaming. The bottom of the box the girl is carrying unfolds and, bless her heart, all her clothes fall out. At that point, I picked up the phone and called the police. Obvi. What follows is an almost word for word transcript of KP and I’s commentary as, as they say, “the s@#t went down.”
Me (my nose dripping from cying): Yeah, hi (sniff) I’d like to report something…um domestic violence.
Police: Okay, and where are you located?
Me: 804 Market Street (sniff) you know across from that tacky used car dealership. A woman is crying and (sniff) loading her car with clothes and her boyfriend followed after her screaming and (sniff) throwing stuff in the parking lot and at her. They’re in a huge fight. I think he’s kicking her out.
Police: Okay and what is the woman wearing?
Me: She’s wearing a hoodie with a fur collar. But it’s faux fur, not real. (sniff) And a white hat but not like a baseball cap, more like a newsboy cap.
Police: Okay, thank you. And can you describe the male and what he’s wearing?
Me: Oh my gosh (sniff) she’s geting into the car, I think she might be leaving. You better hurry up or you’ll miss it. Um, sorry, what’d you ask?
Police: What does the male look like?
Me: Oh yah. A plaid shirt and jeans and ugh…white tennis shoes.
Police: And how tall is he?
Me: I don’t know…(whispering to KP) hey, how tall is he?
KP: 5’5″
Me: What the? How do you know that? (to the dispatcher) Ok, um he’s 5″5″.
Police: Okay and what is his build?
Me: Um, I don’t know….(whispering to KP) hey, what’s his build?
KP: Medium.
Me: Really? I was thinking more small. (whispering to the dispatcher) Ok, medium. (louder) Oh, sorry, medium. Oh the police are here! Perf! Okay, talk to you later, bye!
Police: Okay great, thank you so much for calling this in. Goodbye.
Me: Babe, the police are here! Look they’re four of them! They’re closing in! He’s putting stuff in his pockets, I bet it’s drugs!
KP: Yeah! Meth!
At this point, our noses are pressed up against the glass and our beady little eyes (mine paired with mascara streaked cheeks) are peering through the slats on the blinds.
KP: (Twisting the rod on the blinds) Get back, they’ll see us!
Me: HEY! STOP! I can’t see! Oh my gosh, are we the only ones home?! He’s totally gonna know we’re the ones that called the police on him, he’s going to come and kill us!
KP: No, the indian guy is home too.
Me: The one who is afraid of Bear? OH THANK THE LORD!
KP: He’s not going to come kill us.
Me: Wait, you don’t think he’ll come to kill us but you’re closing the blinds? Aaaaaand now you’re turning off the lights.
KP: Whatever.
Me: Oh my gosh…this is awful. Look, her stuff is everywhere…oh wait, she’s picking some of it up. Oooh, I LOVE her tote. Soo cute. Do you think I should ask her where she got it?
KP: Look the officer is picking something up! What is it???
Me: I bet it’s druggie undies!
Me and KP: EWWWWWWW
Two of the officers take the girl inside and the other two stay outside to interview the guy, who is now sitting on the sidewalk and appears to be falling asleep. Now KP runs upstairs to also turn off the bedroom light which, by the way, cannot even be seen from the parking lot. He comes back downstairs and I fill him in.
Me: BABE! Oh my gosh, guess what?? The two officers left him sitting there on the sidewalk with their backs to him. He could’ve run away. Or even shot them! He could have a gun. They didn’t pat him down you know.
KP: Well they’re certainly not following protocol.
Me: Should we call that in? He’s signing something now. I bet it’s a police report.
KP: Did you open the blinds more?
After what seems like an eternity, the girl and the two officers come out. She begins to finish cleaning up and loading her car. She seems to be in much better spirits. The guy, however, is either now definitely asleep or frostbitten and dead.
Me: Hey, she better throw that box in the dumpster.
KP: Yeah. And close the fence. I bet they’re the ones that always leave it open. I hate that.
Me: Me too because then it slams into my car. Oh look, they’re yelling at him and wagging their finger in his face. Ooooooooh buuuuusted.
The girl begins to talk to the officers again and is gesturing wildly.
KP: Look, I think he pushed her earlier, she just demonstrated how on the officer.
Me: Police brutality! Should we call it in?
It is clear the action is starting to die down. When she’s done packing up her car, she climbs in and pulls away. All four of the police officers escort the guy into his house.
KP: Hey…where are they going?
Me: They’re tucking him in and reading him a bedtime story.
In bed later, still unable to sleep….
Me: (whispering) Babe, I think I heard something. Is the door locked? What if it’s him?
KP: Yes, the door is locked, go to sleep.
Me: (whispering) I think I heard her car. I bet she came back, they always do.
Silence.
Me: Pssst…Babe? Which one is Tweak and which one is Crank?
