Monday, June 25, 2007

Oh, for the love of God.

I live in a quiet neighborhood in a small town. Nothing much seems to happen here, but when it does, it's quite a production.

A new family moved in a few months ago, in the house across the street from ours. I finally got to meet them at the neighborhood shindig we had yesterday. The man o' the house is one of Seymour's finest. He regaled us with a story of something that happened last week that I didn't know about. That is, I heard/saw it, but I didn't get the story.

J, the officer, woke to the sound of cars zooming up and down the road. He called one of his colleagues, asked said colleague to come out, keep an eye on things, maybe catch a speeder. There's a family (at least, I think they're a family) at the end of the street. They always have people in and out of their house, people zipping out of their driveway, people parking the wrong way on that side of the street.

The patrolling officer saw a car parked the wrong way, and went to talk to the guy about it. The driver reeked of pot, and was subjected to a probable cause search. Small amount of weed. Guy won't take his hands out of his pockets.

This is because the dude is carrying 19 grams of crack cocaine.


A month or two prior, at the same house, I saw two squad cars park in the middle of the street, while an officer ran up and kicked the door in. I mean, he sprinted. I still don't know about that one, and I choose to remain under the security blanket of ignorance.

I guess my point is this: Is there anyplace actually safe anymore?

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