Tuesday, June 24, 2008
This town blows
I didn’t really need any more reasons to loathe this depressing town. The downtown blight and infestation of 99s and WalMarts get the job done. But just in case my antipathy was wavering, a nice young crystal meth addict helped sway me by robbing our house in the middle of the afternoon.
Yup. Last week said drug addict made his way up the street from downtown, kicked in our back door and stole all my jewelry. Thankfully Junior and I were out of the house. Thankfully my collection of jewels consisted of sterling silver, Diamonique earrings, and bangles, but the bastard did get a piece of jewelry that belonged to my great-great grandparents.
I was pleasantly surprised by the three police officers who pulled up to my house about 30 seconds after I called 911. They were polite, concerned, and surprisingly attractive (hey, it took my mind off the crime).
After examining each room, I noticed that they kept going back to the dining room. Curious, I wandered over to see what had their attention, which is when I overheard:
“Shit that’s a big cat.”
“Hell ya.”
“Did you see the other one? It’s even bigger.”
The officers were ogling my poor kitties! It’s not uncommon for people to come over and remark on the pleasant plumpness of our pets but these were people of the law. Shouldn’t they have been dusting for fingerprints? Snapping pictures? Calling the crime lab??
The officer noticed me in the doorway and asked, “What is that?”
“It’s a rag doll Coon Calico cat,” I lied. (I have no idea what breed our cats are. Someone gave them to me for free for Pete’s sake.)
“That’s a big cat.” He let out a low whistle.
“Are we done here?” I asked.
After they left I sat on the couch surrounded by my 25 pound son and two, 25 pound cats. It was 75 pounds of feeling better (for personal reasons I'm not factoring myself into that equation). For this piece of shit town, I'll take that. For now.
(I highly recommend Brink's if you need a security system. We just had one installed. Aside from the tech's commentary on Junior's inability to hold his own bottle—he can, he just doesn't want to—the experience was relatively painless.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
How to tell your third kid from your first
Note the appropriate response here is: "When did THAT happen?" because let's be honest, life is moving so fast, there's ...
-
I want to thank everyone who left me a comment on my flea post. I seriously expected comments like “You’re disgusting!” or “I’m never coming...
-
If your kid is into trains, the Connecticut Cellar Savers Fire Museum is a definite must-see. It's in Portland, Conn. and features an e...
-
Note the appropriate response here is: "When did THAT happen?" because let's be honest, life is moving so fast, there's ...
2 comments:
Hi!
I found you through Mom Bloggers Club.
I can relate to your feelings about some towns in CT.
I lived near UConn for 3 years with my husband and we have stories that will last a life time.
(We refer to the house that we lived in in Willamantic as 'The Psycho House'.)
I just may have to blog about one experience soon. When I do, I'll dedicate it too you!
~Ann
http://annagain66.blogspot.com/
Hey - This entry is hilarious. I'm enjoying reading the rest of your blog, too.
- Kaori
Post a Comment