5-OH!

So, last night we got home from a lovely evening out, and I'm all sitting here, minding my own, fussin' on the dogs, when I hear the tell-tale "BOOUP BOOUP" of the police siren. Now, I don't get the little "boooup" noise they sometimes emit from their cars. It's not the full siren action, it's kind of a little blip of the siren to just get your attention-- or be as annoying as fucking possible. Is there a button in there that the cop just gets all DJ Jazzy Jeff on? 'boop booup boop' jigga whaaaat?!!

So, then there's a spotlight, and I'm all- holy shit is that pointing at my car? Well, no, but there's a dude behind his car-- or his woman's car-- and he's standing behind it, in the spotlight... I'm waiting for JAZZ HANDS! none. So, these three burly cops are out there chatting with him. Well, two are talking him up while the third is all up in his car (like a mini horse all up in the booty of another mini horse). So I go all incognito and switch off the lights real fast- this isn't a DEAD giveaway that I'm spying on them, clearly. So, I eeeease open the sliding glass door... and try to take a listen. They're MAYBE 50 ft away, but somehow I still can't make out much of the conversation. The one burly cop is all rolling around in this guys car like a fat man in a cruise ship shower stall, and the other two are yacking it up and sort of chuckling with this guy... I mean, what's going on there?? "Ohh, hey Mr. Black crack-head looking guy, we're going to lube up this oversized cop and shove him into your car for some giggles-- sound good to you? Yes? great." So, I'm so proud of myself for how clever I am to think of inching open the sliding door so I could get a better listen... then I look around the area, which until this point was nowhere near as intriguing as the fuzz... and discover that the neighbors are out of their apartments and inching closer and closer to the scene. So here I am, kneeling by a cracked open sliding door in the DARK only 50 ft away... and they're out there climbing out of the woodwork, shamelessly walking up to the handcuffed crack-head and co. Aren't I silly.

At any rate, nothing seems to come of the encounter and the cops all leave with jovial laughs and handshakes, "oh, thanks for the good time tonight Mr. Crack-head! See you again next week, same time? Bye!"