Last night around1 a.m., I heard someone knock on my neighbor's door. (Their garage is directly in front of their front door so the sound bounces off their garage, into our bedroom. It's like they're in the room with us, but not in a Laurell Hamilton/Anita Blake way. Thank goodness.)
"It's the Columbus Police."
I nudge Simon awake. "The police are outside." He takes this as a sign that we should open up our blinds and spy on the neighbors. I soundly agree with that decision. Wedding planning has sucked a great deal of excitement from our lives.
- The policewoman asked if a certain guy lives there. The neighbor says no, that he stays there sometimes but they broke up last week.
- The policewoman asked if she has kids with him. The neighbor said yes.
- The policewoman asked the last time he stayed there. The neighbor said yesterday.
- The policewoman then pulled out all the punches. She said the man has several warrants out for his arrest. She said that a source told her he lived there and that my neighbor would lie for him. The police would drive by periodically and if his car was there and they found him there, my neighbor would get in trouble too.
At one point, one of the cops shone a flashlight in our window, so Simon had to duck down. But, we heard the whole conversation.
Sadly, we have no idea who the felon is. There's a man with a beard, a really short man and two other guys who come by from time to time. I only see them when I'm going from my car into the condo.
Had I known one of the dudes was a felon, I would have told him about my fender-bender misdemeanor. Maybe we could have bonded.
This is really horrible to say out loud, but we kind of wish they'd get in trouble and have to move out. There are people in and out of that place at all hours. They're loud AND they hang out in their front yard. Sometimes a morbidly obese woman comes by and just sits out front in her car with a laptop. She doesn't get out of the car. She just sits there with the windows rolled down in 90-degree weather.