Oh, Crack Whore, Crack Whore, Crack Whore... the problems you cause. So, because the front door is unusable next door, and because it's such a long, exhausting walk from the back of the house to the front (maybe 50 steps tops), Skank #2 has decided to pile her garbage in the back. No, we don't live in Toronto, so our garbage is picked up on a weekly basis. The catch? They pick up the garbage on the street at the FRONT of our houses. And while the rest of us can manage the trip to the end of the driveway, lazy-ass Skank #2 has decided the walk is too far. So there are now a couple week's worth of garbage on her patio. And now there are either big mice or small rats coming from her garbage. And because I have the good fortune of living next door, the big mice/small rats run across my patio too. It scared the crap out of me this afternoon. I thought I'd enjoy an hour on my lovely Sunday to sit on my lounge and read a book. I didn't realize my lounge was in the middle of the rat highway.
She is a charmer, isn't she? And there are open, gnawed on bags of garbage right outside her door. How disgusting is that?
On a more positive note, Skank #2 has been more quiet this week. I suspect this has something to do with the police stopping in front of the house every single day. Thursday I spotted them as I was washing dishes at 10pm. On Friday night, it was closer to 11 that they passed by, just as I was heading upstairs. Note, she wasn't home either time. And last night they were a bit more tricky. At 3:30am I awoke to the sound of a car running for at least 15 mins. When I checked, it was a squad car parked on the little dead end street behind our houses, across from the creek. Sneaky. You might think the constant police presence would make me feel safer, but on the contrary, it makes me more nervous. It reminds me of the crooks and crack heads living next door. And if the police are that interested, the Crack Whore must be up to no good.
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