OK so I have felt really old being a bitch to kids smoking, drinking, doing drugs, and having sex in our turnout. Aaah what a million-dollar neighborhood buys you these days. So after being severely vandalized on two occasions I took matters into my own hands and have slept or not slept every Friday night and some Saturdays since April 21st ready to confront the buggers.
So last night my night came. Actually three times. First at midnight when the mysterious red SUV that I had the police come and run the plates on last weekend was back. I again called the police. However after what amounted to a Laurel & Hardy act between my husband and me to get one of our fifteen phones to work at that very moment it was too late. They drove off a mere five minutes after calling the police. Yeah five minutes is enough time to get here but I gather they weren't the only teens up to no good.
So off to bed we went. At 3 a.m. they were back. I was up like our Labrador if someone dropped food. I was going to get these kids. I grabbed our too heavy police flashlight and phone and flew out the front door. All ready to call the police and flash my commanding light at the hoodlums, but the light wouldn't come on and the phone was dead. Can't I buy a break at this point? It is 3 a.m. for goodness sake. After dropping the phone, bad phone, I beat up the flashlight for a few seconds, which made it magically come to my assistance. I then proceeded to deliver my speech: "Hey! Get in your car and get out of here now. I'm done! You have been here twice tonight. If you don't leave this very second I'm going to call the police. Move!"
Yeah, me, my dead phone, and my temperamental flashlight felt pretty good as six or seven teens piled back into their red SUV and drove off.
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