Oh I am LIVID! I have
an admirer a stalker of the real live physical variety. Nope not on my blog, although who knows, he may have a laptop and see into here too. No, this stalker has been parked on my street, two houses down from me for TWO days now. He can see right into my house, the whole house practically, because of the open floor plan.
Tuesday was day one, I looked out the window and saw his car and didn't think much of it, because it was similar to the car of that homeowner. He came and left a few times during the day, but I wasn't paying enough attention to notice if he ever left the car.
Yesterday, Wednesday-Day Two
I noticed the car driving down the street, past my house and all of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks. Same car, same guy! WTF!! (Yes, regardless of what I have said to you readers when I asked you to share your address with me, I AM A CRAZY PARANOID PSYCHO!) He has no business on my street, my street comes off the main street and circles right back on to it. Unless you have business here, you have no business here. I know every car on my street, I know of every person on my street. No, I am not like Gladys Kravitz, well maybe a little, I prefer to think of it as keeping my finger on the pulse of the neighborhood.
So I'm having coffee with my comatose husband and I say to him, that guy doesn't belong here. Now if I were blogging about my conversation with Whynot, this post would end right there, because I hear DEAD SILENCE. Nothingnadazilch.
Do your hubbies do that? Totally ignore you when you've gone off the deep end? What? You never go off the deep end? And why do they say "go off the deep end" I'm not jumping into the swimming pool, I'm getting ready to go bat shit postal.
I'm on my own here, Whynot is going to be no help at all. I call the police, at the non emergency number, although in my mind this is a real emergency. This guy is casing out houses to see if people are home and he's going to rob them. Only when he comes to my door he's going to kill me first. Ohhellno!!! I called the cops.
One Adam12, One Adam12. Possible 211 on The Avenue.
Less than 5 minutes later two squad cars and three officers arrive, surrounding the perps car. I know this because I am peeking through the blinds in the downstairs bathroom. Two can play his peeping game. There was an exchange of what appeared to be a driver's license, a business card and a blue folder. Some radio communication by the police officers and then they left and he stayed.
I get back on the phone and the dispatcher informs me that he is a private investigator for missing children, working for a family looking for their 19 year old daughter who has disappeared. He has a valid reason to be parked there. Really? I smell bullshit! There is no 19 yr old girl on this street!
He sat there until 1 p.m. then he left and came back around 3 p.m. at 4 p.m he left for good. I was peeking through my CLOSED blinds.
I have a message for you Mr Gray Four Door Chevy Cobalt Driver with Illinois license plates that I may publish if you continue to park two doors down and peer into my home.
Because if I see you again on The Avenue I may have to invoke my Carrie Underwood inalienable rights and dig my key into the side of your pretty little souped up four door car,
carve my name into your leather seats.
I may take a Louisville Slugger to both headlights
and slash a hole in all four tires!
Maybe next time he'll think before he peeps.