They're baaaaaack!
Yep, the police returned to the house next door to us last night at 1:00 after I called them for the 3rd time since Friday. Mr. D has only called them twice since Friday.
We lived by the old Sears on Lake Street when we were first married and never had to call the police. Okay, maybe Mr. D called the police when his stereo equipment was stolen and oh, yeah, the first night he moved into the Midwest Challenge house (it was a Christian halfway house and he was a Bible teacher/pastor there) a guy was murdered in the back yard, but after we got married and lived there, there was never a cause for calling the police.
Where to begin. First of all I will begin with a lecture. When you partake of large quantities of malt liquor, you think you are having some quiet fun with friends. You don't realize that you are talking really loudly and the whole neighborhood can hear you. You also don't realize that your vocabulary becomes limited to one adjective that starts and ends like the word "firetruck", but isn't the word firetruck. You also don't realize that 2:30 in the morning probably isn't the best time to be talking loudly, using that one particular adjective (which generally is used that loudly and publicly by drunk 20-somethings and the occasional edgy pastor speaking at high school retreats).
Also, if you are partaking of large amounts of the malt liquor and inviting 20 to 30 carloads of people to a suburban neighborhood at least 3 nights a week and partying till 2 or 3 in the morning, you might just have a teensy, weensy drinking problem.
Mr. and Mrs. D put up with that behavior (which began the first weekend in June). No calls to the police for the drunken behavior and rude language that has kept us up or woken us up many a June night this year. We kind of felt sorry for you.
However, when you decided to have a more "edgy" crowd over last Friday that involved no more than 3 "girls", and one of them came in a miniskirt, fur hat, and high heel fur boots, and one was skinny dipping in your in ground pool in full view of the neighbors and it was only 6:15 in the evening, Mr. D called the "non-emergency" police number and gave them a hint that maybe someone needed to check out what was going on. Oh, this was after he heard skinny dipping pool girl screaming. It didn't sound right, but she wasn't screaming for help, hence the call to non-emergency. I arrived home shortly after the screams.
Now, just a tip for you girls out there. It's probably just not the best idea to go skinny dipping at all, but especially not in a pool area where you are the only girl surrounded by a bunch of "men" drinking that malt liquor. Just a little tip for you gals.
I went across the street to check with the neighbors about what they heard and saw. Mike saw skinny dipping girl from his deck. They all heard the screams and Ruth was on the phone with a different neighbor who had also heard the screams. Then, Mr. D came over and said, "I just called 911 when three guys came out with an unconscious girl." (She was slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and two other guys helped stuff her in the back seat).
We went home and 10 minutes or so had passed and still no police! So, I called and relayed the story about skinny dipping girl and expressed some outrage that a girl had been hauled out unconscious at 6:30 in the evening and the police hadn't shown up. They came about 10 minutes later and they talked with the brother of the guy who rents the house (the renter, a recent Bethel College grad I might add, wasn't at home). He must have given them a story about why a girl was unconscious and slung over a guy's shoulder that they believed. They walked through the house, talked a bit more, then left.
As the police arrived, Mr. D observed a girl run out the back gate. Oh, yes, there was also a nasty fight going on between a couple of guys right before the police arrived.
After the police left, Mr. D and I decided to go for our evening walk. We got to the end of our driveway and observed a disoriented, hard looking girl coming down the street. She approached us and asked if there was a blue house with a pool. We recognized her as the girl who escaped when the police arrived. We told her there wasn't a blue house with a pool, but that the house right next door to us has a pool and we pointed to the house. She thanked us and started walking up the driveway to return to the party.
I said, "What's going on there?" She said, "A couple guys got in a fight and I got scared and left." Mr. D said, "Yeah, I saw you leave by the back gate when the police arrived." She said, "I don't know this neighborhood. I'm not from around here. I'm from the country," as she proceeded up the driveway. I said, "Go back to the country, it's safer there."
Well, that is enough for today and we haven't even gotten to the arrest on Friday at 11:00 or the 1:00 in the morning visit last night to stop the drunken brawl in the driveway involving 30 or so guests.
Bet you can't wait. In the meantime, Happy Birthday, America!
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1 comment:
Good grief! We had some neighbors once who used to take their crying baby on a bike ride at 2:30 in the morning, presumably to make him stop crying. They also threw a firecracker type thing on their kid once. They also used a taxi (she was a taxi driver) as her "chair." Yes, she sat outside in her taxi sideways with the door open. It was very weird.
But never have we had a drunken brawl.
Of course, if you were our neighbor you might want to report us for the numerous times children have decided that clothes are optional, and naked squirt gun fights are completely normal. Next you would hear parents run screaming out the back door in horrified tones, "You can't be naked outside! How many times have I told you!"
Our neighbor gave us a baby gift the other day and said, "God bless you. You deserve this girl after two *boys*."
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