Suburban Crime

A couple days ago I got hit on in the “Self-Help” section at Barnes and Noble.  The guy pretended to be looking at books, ironically concerning addiction (probably sex) when he said “Haven’t I seen you here before?”  Oh My God.  Really?  “Probably.  I spend a LOT of time in the SELF-HELP section.”  He laughed.  I ignored.  He continued “Maybe it was then?”  Oh My God, this is still happening.  “Not unless one of my friends signed me up in a sordid attempt at being funny.” (And listed my preferences as old men with lisps and the teeth of a British aristocrat).  He laughed again.  “Would you like to go get a drink sometime?”  Yep, still happening.  “Oh, I am married to someone 11 years older than me.  I have like maaaaajor daddy issues and he would probably say I cannot date you, but I can call him if you want.  It is my time to check in anyway to see if he still loves me.”  Poof, gone.

Strange things have been happening lately.  My iPod was stolen out of my car.  Truthfully, my initial reaction was not that of anger but of embarrassment because of the 10,000 Prince (AKA: symbol that I cannot make on my computer) songs downloaded on there.   My husband is walking a fine line between normal dentist and obsessed-I want-to-sneak-into-his-mansion-and-take-a-bubble-bath-in-Prince’s bathtub-stalker.  But this is an entirely separate issue that we will continue to work on in counseling.  I was not too upset about my stolen iPod because I believe in karma.  In a previous life I was probably dating the thief and made out with his best friend on accident or raped and pillaged his village.  It doesn’t really matter, we are Even-Steven.  You get my beloved iPod and I will not seek retaliation on your sorry ass.  I hope you like Purple Rain dipshit.  But this was just the beginning……

The same thing happened to my tutu making friend, Amber.  Some mom called her up requesting a “Black Swan” (like the scratch myself until I bleed, anxiety induced hallucinations, graphic sex scene, climatic suicide, mother/daughter dysfunctional relationship, really messed up, calloused toes) tutu FOR HER TWELVE- YEAR-OLD.  Now, I am certainly not claiming to be the authority on proper parenting or a moral compass of any sort but seriously?  Who really cares if your kids like you? I don’t.  And definitely not enough to allow them to watch a jacked up movie and wear a skanky Halloween costume because I did not get enough hugs as a child and need them to validate my existence by throwing keg parties for them on their 6th birthday.  Anyway, the broad walked into Amber’s house, snatched the tutu and bolted out the door WITHOUT PAYING.  A TUTU.  Do you steal from some orphans and old people too you soulless animal?  What.A.Bitch.  But there is more…….

The day before Halloween, I opened the front door and realized our pumpkins had been smashed.  I took crime scene photos and made chalk outlines of their lifeless bodies and then realized my next door neighbor’s house (WHOM I HAPPEN TO LOOOOOOOOOVE) had been toilet papered.  I started laughing hysterically thinking of them having to clean it up.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! THAT was going to take them hours!!!!  HAHAHAHAHAHAH-Oh wait.  They were out of town.  They are reclusive, anti-socials that talk to no one else on the street but me and that is only via facebook…..  I was going to have to clean this shit up.

Flashback:  In high school, I had been dating a guy named Na-I mean Pate B. who called my friend Katya and I up in the middle of the night and chewed our asses out for tee-peeing his house and then DUMPED  ME.  Then Genius Boy called my mom and pretended to be a cop and told her what we did.  Naturally, she went ballistic.  Oops, one minor mistake made by every rookie cop: While Katya and I did many things that teetered on immoral, we had a verifiable alibi.  He figured this out the next day and apologized but it was too late, I was already dating someone else.  I was totally going to have sex with him too. What an IDIOT, right?!  Not to mention, I eventually lost the weight, look amazing and am like, hugely successful.  Oh well….

So I cleaned it up.  All of it.  For almost 3 hours. I took pictures.  I collected evidence.  I found a glove.  I excitedly found a footprint in a pile of dog-shit (deflated, I discovered it was mine).  I plotted my revenge on these deliquents while I collected 3 black garbage bags of toilet paper and smashed pumpkins.  Amateur rich kids.  They used Charmin, toilet paper so soft that it breaks apart piece by piece by piece by piece.  A job that could have been accomplished in fifteen minutes probably took their dumbasses 2 hours.  They could have vandalized  approximately 10 other houses in that time, not to mention that it takes some major balls to tee-pee a house WHEN NO ONE IS HOME.  WHAT A F’ING RUSH DUDE!  OMG!  You must have been so scared, gasp!

I could not believe what had become of our quaint, exclusive, gated community.  Next thing you know, we were going to have Jehovah Witnesses’ knocking on our doors, cars parked on driveways for longer than 2 hours and people letting their dogs off their leashes.   I decided after I found out who was responsible for wasting my Sunday morning, I would find their parents’ houses and teach these youngsters how vandalism is really done (ever heard of eggs or toothpicks asstards) and THEN because I am a respected community member, I will organize a “Take Back Our Streets Rally” later that week.  Karma, remember?  Sleep with one eye open preteens; I can buy generic toilet paper in bulk since I am old enough to have a Costco membership card.  See you soon suckahs!!! XO


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