Scene of the Crime

I spent the day typing change of address letters to the various organizations and journals I subscribe to. Yes, I know I should have done this weeks ago, but events overtook me, and facing that mound of crappola was really more than I wanted to deal with. It wasn’t until I noticed that I had ten days after a move to notify the state veterinary licensing board that I had a new address that I was finally spurned on to get the deed accomplished. Thank the good Lord Gates for Word, or I’d still be hand-wrinting those things out.

While typing away at my little ol’ computer this afternoon, I heard a ruckus outside. Actually, it was the little grey Nosey Nellie kitten who first noticed, and then I took heed when I realized that she was absolutely enraptured with something going on in the parking lot.

OK, OK … I instantly became a Nosey Nellie too. Outside was one cop car and another unmarked SUV with official looking people (plainclothes?). The officers were carrying clipboards, and looking mighty official. I had been taking pictures of the cats at the time, and turned my attention (and my zoom) to the outside world.

While the police walked over to the building across the way from me, the mail lady (who has the same name as my mother’s was and whom I’ve come to like very much) altered her course to deliver to that building first. Which was fine by me. It kept the action on the outside for a bit.

A mutual respect for those in uniform was evidenced by the police, as they spent some time questioning the mail lady. And here I thought the butler always did it.

Another unmarked car arrived, with more uniformed officers. One of these guys carried in a big, apparently heavy and very official looking case. Here I thought at first it was just another domestic argument across the way, but apparently there was something more than that going on.

And then, much to my surprise, The Straw Hat Man appears. I’ve been meaning to mention The Straw Hat Man before. He and I got off on the wrong foot, and I’ve been unkindly disposed to him ever since. The day I got out of the hospital, I had to run out to the pharmacy two blocks down the way to pick up some medications. We have a single reserved parking spot for our apartment, and The Socialist had left it open for me because I was feeling rather weak and it was just outside our door. When I got home, however, there was a car parked in my spot. I left a note asking the person not to park in numbered spots not theirs. It was really a polite note. The next day, the car was still there. The Socialist left a note asking the person not to park in numbered spots not theirs. It was not a polite note. I was there to see Straw Hat Man walk up to the car, remove both notes, crumple them up, and throw them in the dumpster. He failed to move his car. His car *was* moved the next day, and the guy’s daughter came over to apologize. The Socialist in turn apologized, but explained that I was sick and had been forced to walk two building lengths to our apartment because of this (which was true). The Straw Hat Man always stares at our cars when he walks by now. And he walks by alot. He’s nosier than the kitten.

The police were here for nearly an hour, and Straw Hat Man was out there, leaning against the railing for nearly that entire time. It was kinda fun snapping these shots – like doing private investigator work or something. My disdain for the Straw Hat Man grows though – at least I was good enough to be surreptitious about my snooping.