Monday, March 14, 2011

Calling 911

A few days ago I looked out my front window and saw a tall, skinny white guy dressed in black with a black knit hat loping across my lawn. For those who have not been to my house, my lawn is in the back of a house and off a private drive surrounded by backyards of other people and a large gravel patch. In short, it's not on the way to anywhere. I stepped outside to get a good look at this guy/yell at him (How dare you walk across my lawn!) at which point he started running, jumped my neighbor's fence, and hid on their porch, peeking out to see if I noticed him. When he realized that I was indeed watching him his head disappeared.


What to do? Calling 911 seemed a bit drastic, but there are a lot of break-ins in my neighborhood and this guy definitely seemed good for it, so I called. When you're a little kid this number is drilled into your head. But do you ever get to call it? No. So I called, gave the operator a description of this guy, the location of my neighbor, etc. I don't know if she even sent someone to check it out, but she got my phone number in case the police wanted to talk to me. (!) It was a rather flat end to what promised to be a thrilling afternoon.

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