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11.03.2002 - 5:33 p.m.


We have some weird neighbors.

There's the freaky lady down the street who once shuffled over in her bathrobe to let us know that our cat was hanging around in her bushes (that's the Cat Bar & Grill) and when we acknowledged the fact she bizarrely tried to give JB a high five.

There's the people two houses away that own the World's Loudest bird. If it turns out that it isn't a bird at all but is actually a pterodactyl, carefully grown from hunks of petrified dinosaur shit, I would not be surprised. Its squawk is a jillion decibels loud and can be heard from space.

And there's Martine, who lives across from us. Martine has called us about twenty times, because if we do anything publicly visible she has to comment on it. "Love the new bushes," she gushed when we did some landscaping in the front yard. "I see you have a new mailbox!" when we, you got it, installed a new mailbox. She once called to ask, "So are you by yourself this week?" about 15 minutes after JB left for the airport.

So we get back home from a night out watching a movie (Jackass: it's a urine-snowcone-eating, pants-shitting, wasabi-vomiting good time) and there's a business card in our door. From A POLICE OFFICER. Scribbled on the back of the card it says 'Received a complaint about your dog barking. Might want to leave the dog inside while you're gone.'

Wow, we said to each other. What asshole called the police? And is our dog really barking while we're gone? Jeez. We decided that it must be the new neighbors that moved in next door, because anyone else surely would have called us first. I wanted to go over and talk to them, but JB decided to call Nosy Martine, just to see if she had noticed the dog barking.

JB: "Hi, Martine? JB here. Listen, we just got home and we have this notice that the police stopped by."
Martine: "Uh, maybe it was because your dog was barking."
JB: "It was you that called?"
Martine: stammer stutter stammer

Martine, who has never failed to get in touch if we alter the pattern of our parking by .00004 inches, called the COPS on us! I was furious. I mean, the very least you hope for from your neighbors, other than them not having a meth lab in their garage, is that they call YOU before the police. You know?

I spent most of the night feeling 1) really angry with Martine, and 2) really worried that Dog had developed a split personality and spent her entire time alone barking her brains out.

So this morning Martine calls. I let her call 3 different times without answering, because I'm still pissed. When I finally talk with her, it's the most uncomfortable conversation I think I've ever had. She tells me she's so sorry, that she made a mistake. She says she's been sick lately and thinks maybe she should go to the emergency room but she's got to get to work instead and it is really stressing her out. She cries. She mentions her husband and kids were gone last night and she probably wouldn't have called the cops if they were there (?). She says the dog had been barking 'a little' and our backyard motion light kept going off (duh, triggered by the dog) and it had scared her. Okay, I manage to get in edgewise, just call me next time instead of the police. Oh she will, she will, she's sorry, but I just need to understand all the pressure she's been under lately.

Yeah, so I'm less worried about the dog now, but more worried about Little Miss Nervous Breakdown across the way.

On the plus side, it's given us fodder for retarded jokes. What's the best possible way to resolve any given problem? Why, you call the police, of course!

Cat: "Meow!"
Me: "Cat, watch your step, or I will GET THE COPS on your ass."

JB: "Let's have dinner at 6."
Me: "Myeh. How about 6:30?"
JB: "Don't make me CALL THE POLICE."


In totally random news, I made a green tomato pie today. You, the one barfing up a lung - it's really good. No shit.

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