Christmas was fun.
New Years was drama filled.
However, neither event was the highlight of the holidays, that award goes to the complete meltdown of the neighbours across the street. It was a sight to behold. And behear? I guess I'm making up words again today.
But first I need to give you some background. Just so you guys can appreciate this as much as I did. Also I'm probably a bad person for finding all this so entertaining, but that's okay, since I came to peace with that a long time ago.
Oh and I should probably tell you I used to be a big fan of Jerry Springer and Maury Povitch. If you don't know who/what those people/t.v. shows are you should google that shit. Also, my bedroom window faces the street. It's an important part of the story. Ish.
Sometime during this last summer the house directly across the street from us got the nickname "the crack house". I don't know who named it that, or why, but it definitely stuck. Then it got weird. And creepily real. The variety of cars that would pull up late at 1 or 2 in the morning just long enough for somebody to run in and out of the house. The odd older gentleman with the ponytail and the glazed over eyes riding his longboard up and down the street. That one afternoon I fell asleep with a book on the recliner out front and woke up to find 3 people standing in their driveway staring at me. That guy who spent the entire summer working on his truck blaring new Metallica (new Metallica sucks) asking me if the cops kept an eye on the neighbourhood.
Kinda weird right? But whatever. We'd crack the odd joke about them but nothing ever really happened.
Now, fast forward to a few days ago.
(See what I did there? Normally you can't fast forward to the past, but today we're playing with the rules of time and space motherfucker. This has nothing to do with the fact that I watched a couple Star Trek movies this week. NOTHING!)
So last week I left my bedroom window open a bit, like I usually do. This let me hear all the screaming that started at about 8am. It was loud. I thought it was coming from downstairs for some reason, even though I've been mostly by myself in the house during the holidays. Not to mention, my housemates aren't much for screaming in the living room first thing in the morning...sober...on a weekday.
Groggy, but curious as hell, I go downstairs. Nobody's there but I can still hear the yelling. Color me confused. Now it sounds like it's coming from outside. I peek out the living room window and oh what a sight awaited me.
Full on redneck white trash appeared before me in all it's skuzzy glory. A creepily skinny brunette wearing a too-small pink bathrobe and slippers holding a cigarette in one shaking hand, is yelling at this dude with baggy pants, a wife-beater (The t-shirt, not like a stick or something) and a bandanna wrapped around his neck.
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| The girl is on the left, the guy is on the right and in the middle is some garbage. |
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Naturally I ran upstairs where I could hear better and pulled the blind on my window up just enough that I could watch the show.
Pink bathrobe is screaming DAVID! DAVID! DAVID!
"David" is walking up the street.
Pink bathrobe is all "GODDAMN IT COME BACK HERE AND TALK TO ME!"
"David" keep walking up the street.
Pink bathrobe keeps yelling "IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU BASTARD"
"David" turns around and makes a show about lighting a cigarette.
"FINE YOU FUCKING BASTARD BE THAT WAY!"
"David" starts walking away again.
Someone else come sout of the house, get into the car in the driveway.
Pink bathrobe keeps doing what she's good at: "FUCK YOU BOTH" and starts kicking the car as it pulls out the driveway.
The car pulls up beside Dave and he gets in and the car dives off.
Pink bathrobe starts muttering and slams the door of her house as she goes back inside.
Weird thing to wake up to right? Then I fell back on my bed, got back asleep and had a dream where I was married and had a child destined to destroy the world.
That's me. Real life is better than t.v. sometimes. Which is nice considering I don't have cable.
Spammy
