Neighborhood watch

(So, yes, it’s supposed to be “Dispatches” today, but something happened that deserved it’s own post, so I must honor it! For those of you missing “Dispatches,” there will be a random one at the end of this post!)

Last night, I had to call the police on someone.

Let me back up. The only other time I’ve ever called the police is when my parents had a small accident down the road from my apartment and called me to call the police because the guy who rear-ended them had no insurance and was trying to make a hasty get-away.

But in all my time living in apartments, I’ve never had to call for any nefarious activity, loud neighbors, or out-of-control parties. The most exciting things that happened (that I was aware of) in the apartment complex was the night a guy ran up and down the sidewalk outside my building screaming for some reason (someone else called the cops) and sometimes my neighbors across the hall had loud arguments.

But at 2 a.m. this morning, I was awakened by a strange noise. In that moment between waking and sleeping, I had the thought that Muffin was dreaming and was letting out those little dream barks dogs have. But when I was fully awake, I realized this wasn’t the case. She wasn’t making any noise. And this noise was louder than barks. It sounded like squealing tires and a revving engine.

And it was very near.

Since my bedroom is on the back side of my condo and doesn’t face the parking lot, I crept into the guest room to see if I could see anything.

And I most definitely could. A car was backing up out of a parking place at the building across from mine, stopping, revving the engine, and careening back into the spot. Over and over. The car even backed into the yard next to my building, narrowly missing some electrical and cable boxes, and then hit the stone wall and decorative lightpost in front of a unit across the street. The driver didn’t really have the car under control and after all that happened, I was concerned he was going to hurt himself or damage other cars or property.

I felt like I had to call the police. So I did.

And soon after I did, he stopped the revving and backing up stuff, parked the car, got out, worked on the post, and started hitting the top of the car. Then he sat on the stone wall and laughed and shouted for a bit.

Then the police arrived and he became beligerant and even louder. There wasn’t much the police could do (he apparently IS my neighbor) except make sure he went inside his house and calm him down. When the police left, he finally went inside, but not without loudly shouting obscenities at the officer.

And then the night got quiet again, and I went back to bed.

(And as a total aside, here’s the “Dispatch” I promised: No matter how many times you’ve washed your hands, do not attempt to remove your contacts within hours of touching jalapenos. We don’t need to discuss how I learned this. I just pass the advice along!)