Low-Level Excitement

This is what passes for excitement around here.

This week, as Tim and I went out to walk the dog, the two police cars in town seemed to be doing laps, up and down our street and through the school parking lot. The neighbors in the area were out keeping an eye on the developments, and lots of the school kids were walking away from the area, cursing and complaining loudly. I thought maybe there was some kind of abduction (or the threat of one), because there was one in the news this week, elsewhere in the province.

When we got back to the house, there was still a bit of activity. There was an RCMP officer in the school parking lot, and a few kids still around. Our neighbor B was sitting on his front porch with his arms crossed watching. These days, I chat with the neighbors, having been deprived of this basic human right during my stay in Taiwan.

"What's going on B? You causing trouble?" I asked, just as a joking entrance to aid my nosiness.

But it turned out that the cops were there because of him. There were a bunch of high school punks hanging out on top of the baseball dugout, making a bunch of racket, and when he asked them to keep it down, one of them told him to fuck off. So he called the police.

The police gave the kid a good talking to, and were bringing him over to apologize when I went back inside. Shortly after that, the hubbub died down. I'm totally on my neighbor's side on this one, but I don't want to be antagonizing the local punks. We live right across the street from the school, but--thankfully--too far from the road to easily hit with eggs.