Next problem came when Mrs. Nasty called the police! Yep, the police came knocking on my door on a Sunday morning. I’m at the kitchen table reading the Sunday newspaper. Knock on the door. I’m in my underwear. Me, I go to the door. Policeman asks to come inside. Okay. Strange look on his face. I’ve only had half a cup of coffee. I tell him to have a seat and offer him coffee. Perfect hostess. Still this strange expression. Duh! Dawns on me finally. I’m a tad bit slow on a Sunday morning before I’ve had at least three cups of coffee. Duh, I forgot to ask if he wanted some sugar! So coffee served and he tells me Nasty Neighbor has reported that I’m over here shooting my gun in the city limits. What? Do I look like I’ve been out shooting a gun? No, he says. Looks to him as though I’d just gotten out of bed. I looked down and, oops! I grabbed my robe from the bathroom.
Then we hear it. Neighborhood kids are celebrating the 4th a little early. Sorry to have bothered you, ma’am, but I certainly enjoyed the coffee, he says. I tell him to come back anytime. A few days later, he’s back. The Nasties have called the police on the neighbor across the street.
We have this nice older gentleman who walks the blocks in the morning. On trash days, if you’ve forgotten to put your trash out before leaving for work, he will check to see if you have any and if so, will roll your trash can to the curb for you. Seems he’d done that for Nasty Neighbor. What did he get for his trouble but a cop delivering a Court Order for no trespassing on the Nasties’ property!