Holy...
A woman named Stacey knocked on my door this afternoon asking to use my phone. Her car had been stolen (along with her purse). But she was worried about filing the police report because she has a traffic violation, which she says will land her in jail. (I thought they just fined you...)
Well, it turns out Stacey knew the man who took her car; he was a friend. And I mean WAS. Another of my neighbors (Beth--another story involving her to follow) suspects the same man of poisoning two of her dogs in the past week. She used to call him a friend as well, but he's gotten back into drugs, and apparently, it makes him psychotic.
So then the police came by, and two of Stacey's other friends also showed up. With her purse. They said the guy who stole her car drove by their house and dropped her purse out of the window, but it looks like he stole her money, too. Meanwhile, Beth is off to the side crying about the dog she just discovered dead in the backyard. Her husband sighs and says, "Well, it looks like I have to go bury another dog."
Man, this neighborhood is messed up. No wonder I like to keep to myself...
Well, it turns out Stacey knew the man who took her car; he was a friend. And I mean WAS. Another of my neighbors (Beth--another story involving her to follow) suspects the same man of poisoning two of her dogs in the past week. She used to call him a friend as well, but he's gotten back into drugs, and apparently, it makes him psychotic.
So then the police came by, and two of Stacey's other friends also showed up. With her purse. They said the guy who stole her car drove by their house and dropped her purse out of the window, but it looks like he stole her money, too. Meanwhile, Beth is off to the side crying about the dog she just discovered dead in the backyard. Her husband sighs and says, "Well, it looks like I have to go bury another dog."
Man, this neighborhood is messed up. No wonder I like to keep to myself...