Road Kill
So we had a murder on our street the other day. Well, technically around the corner but for the sake of argument and real estate values, I'll say it's on my street. It sounds more dramatic that way... CSI: Washington, DC. We were the murder capital for years, but I think we've been beat now. What happened to the days of sticking to a legacy, huh?
My mother was stunned when I told her. "You shouldn't go out," she says. "Well maybe for milk, but that's it." (Dairy products it seems are worth risking one's life.)
The cops found some guy shot to death in an SUV. Everyone always says it's drugs, but I always think that's an easy excuse. Be more creative I say. I'm telling the neighbors that it was due to walking on someone's lawn when it was clear from the Chemlawn signs, that no one was supposed to be on the grass for at least 24 hours.
Speaking of neighbors, they are insane with our neighborhood list serve. Every day there is more useless information flowing through cyberspace due to these folks. The murder day was no exception.
"There's a police barricade at 12th street."
"Really? Do you think it's crime?" (morons live here too, btw.)
"I heard it was murder... or a suicide."
"Who ever thought something could happen in a neighborhood like this?"
"I'm shocked as well. By the way, did anyone else not have their recycling picked up on Thursday?"
"Those people are the worst. I need to write the mayor."
Yep, welcome to our list serve.
A set of neighbors, Tony & Tina (well, his name is like Terry or Tracy, but we can never remember so we call him Tina) called to see if we knew anything. Tony (or maybe it was Tina) asked what we knew. "Nothing," I said, though the Chemlawn idea was starting to brew. Too early to solve the crimes, I thought. Jessica Fletcher I'm not, but that is only due to age, gender and not living in Maine.
So the cops eventually made it to my door. Their questions were brief and didn't allow for much imagine or speculation on my part. "I didn't see anything," I said. "But I did take this correspondence class about reading the past in tea leaves." The water was already brewing for the Cozy Chamomile. Watch your ass, Dionne Warwick.
When Larry got home, I went through a belaboring desription of the murder. "It's on page 12 of the Post... at the bottom," I said. But he wanted more details.
I sighed and began the disertation I had prepared; Powerpoint slides complimented the show but the costumes weren't ready so I can't be certain the full experience came through.
"Where did they find him?" he asked.
"In the SUV. He drove an Escapade," I said.
(Long pause)
"Babe, Janet Jackson went on an Escapade, but Cadillac makes the Escalade!"
"Oh.... whatever." See, I'm totally keen on the details.
My mother was stunned when I told her. "You shouldn't go out," she says. "Well maybe for milk, but that's it." (Dairy products it seems are worth risking one's life.)
The cops found some guy shot to death in an SUV. Everyone always says it's drugs, but I always think that's an easy excuse. Be more creative I say. I'm telling the neighbors that it was due to walking on someone's lawn when it was clear from the Chemlawn signs, that no one was supposed to be on the grass for at least 24 hours.
Speaking of neighbors, they are insane with our neighborhood list serve. Every day there is more useless information flowing through cyberspace due to these folks. The murder day was no exception.
"There's a police barricade at 12th street."
"Really? Do you think it's crime?" (morons live here too, btw.)
"I heard it was murder... or a suicide."
"Who ever thought something could happen in a neighborhood like this?"
"I'm shocked as well. By the way, did anyone else not have their recycling picked up on Thursday?"
"Those people are the worst. I need to write the mayor."
Yep, welcome to our list serve.
A set of neighbors, Tony & Tina (well, his name is like Terry or Tracy, but we can never remember so we call him Tina) called to see if we knew anything. Tony (or maybe it was Tina) asked what we knew. "Nothing," I said, though the Chemlawn idea was starting to brew. Too early to solve the crimes, I thought. Jessica Fletcher I'm not, but that is only due to age, gender and not living in Maine.
So the cops eventually made it to my door. Their questions were brief and didn't allow for much imagine or speculation on my part. "I didn't see anything," I said. "But I did take this correspondence class about reading the past in tea leaves." The water was already brewing for the Cozy Chamomile. Watch your ass, Dionne Warwick.
When Larry got home, I went through a belaboring desription of the murder. "It's on page 12 of the Post... at the bottom," I said. But he wanted more details.
I sighed and began the disertation I had prepared; Powerpoint slides complimented the show but the costumes weren't ready so I can't be certain the full experience came through.
"Where did they find him?" he asked.
"In the SUV. He drove an Escapade," I said.
(Long pause)
"Babe, Janet Jackson went on an Escapade, but Cadillac makes the Escalade!"
"Oh.... whatever." See, I'm totally keen on the details.
posted by Steve at
9:39:00 PM
3 Comments:
I'll agree with your mother. Dairy could be worth risking one's life for . . . that and yarn!
And now I have that stupid Janet Jackson song stuck in my head.
It could be worse... My mother was here visiting a few years ago and happen to see a hooker/pimp fight near our house. She was up in the middle of the night watching and happened to be watching out the window and down the street. Yes we live in an urban setting. She thought it was better than Law & Order and proceeded to tell everyone she met about it. Now instead of it being an anomoly that has only happened once since we moved here, everyone thinks we live in Tenderloin.
I'm not so sure Dairy is worth it, but Diet Coke definitely is.
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