At 7:10 am Friday morning, as I was reading the paper, I was distracted by a loud banging noise at the front of the house. I soon realized that someone was pounding on the front door next door. And I knew that it had to be someone from outside the neighbourhood because we all know the front door is inoperable (smashed down by the police one too many times.) I also wondered if it wasn't obvious that the front door was inoperable. It has a huge dent in the middle of the door, and it's basically held up by to pieces of wood wedged between the door and the door frame. It's quite attractive.
When I finished my breakfast and took my cereal bowl to the kitchen I saw the police cruiser out front. That's who was pounding the door (I should point out that this officer helped smash down the door.) Mr. Police Officer then moved to the back door and started pounding on it. While I cleaned up my dishes, put the paper in the recycle bin, made my lunch and went upstairs and brushed my teeth, Mr. Police Officer continued to pound on the door. Two points for persistence. And just as I was about to go in the shower, someone finally answered the door. But it wasn't the crack whore next door. It was some guy with a really deep voice. I heard the officer ask for Skank #2 (though he used her real name, of course). And then I heard the guy say, "oh, yeah, there was a problem with her bus, and then she lost track of time..." In short, Skank #2 wasn't home.
Something I've learned living next to the crack whore next door is that the police generally only call early in the morning to make sure the people inside are home. Skank #2 must have bail conditions that require her to be at home from 9pm to 9am, just like Dumb-as-dirt and Skank #1. And poor Snank #2 wasn't home. Doh! And when I got out of the shower, the guy who answered the door in her absence was having his record checked.
I should note that a couple (guy/girl couple) seem to have moved into the house earlier in the week. I've heard them fighting when the Skanks weren't home. Now, if you knew the police had raided a home 3 times in the past 6 months, would you really think "Hey! That's a great place to live! Let's move in!" And even if you didn't know about the police raids, surely the appearance and inability to use the front door would arouse some suspicions. Just sayin'.
When I got home at 6:30pm I noticed a few boxes of stuff on the patio. Someone moving in? Someone moving out? Who knows. I was only home for a few minutes before leaving again, and when I returned home later in the evening all the boxes were gone and the house was quiet.
Where oh where is Skank #2?
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