Bustin’ cops lightly… this time.
Recall our new neighbors? Well, today I had a short lunchtime, cos I spent some of it cutting short a noon meeting of the Stoned Road Druggies (no affirmative proof, but they meet several of the behavioral/environmental criteria for activity surrounding a meth lab *sigh*).
Yeh, twelve vehicles parked on (and nearly on) their property at noon. One left. Loudly. (These guys seem to think that if ya drill out a muffler the vehicle will run soooo much better.) Another backed up to repark. Backed up right on our lawn… as I was watching. I hollered to stop him, and to his credit he did, then pulled on forward and parked it where it’d been before he started backing.
Words ensued. I called the cops. As I was counting vehicles (and TPT*/
maybe likely druggies) and relating license tags to the cops over the phone, they began leaving. With more “words” and a few cute threats to “donut” my lawn.
Let ’em come. License tags, bubbas.
*TPT=Trailer Park Trash
[Update: a year later, after a few more incidents like this, the kid’s wife left him, he lost the house (needed her income to make expenses) and he and his asshat hangers-on are long gone. Acquaintance at the local bank and her husband–good folks–are in line to buy the place. Things are looking up.]