Call the Popo

Yesterday while Gideon and I were playing in the office a white Ford Explorer was driving up the street. My parent’s new house is the only one on the street right now, so anybody driving around here is interesting.  This car was even more interesting because the driver’s window was down. Ordinarily, I’d just assume it was a smoker who was attempting to keep the stink to a minimum, but the temperature and the wind yesterday would’ve kept even the most nicotine craved soul from rolling down their window completely.  So, I kept watching  them as they rolled past the house and as the guy while still looking forward, took pictures of the house with a digital camera.

Creepy?  Yes. Even creepier? They parked their car just on the other side of the house and idled there for almost an hour. 

We’re suspicious people so when Jud came upstairs I told him about it and he called the cops.  A member of the sheriff’s department finally rolled up and got some info from the guy, but didn’t make him leave. The cop left and the car remained.  In fact, he stayed right where he was, idling just in front of a stop sign, until my parent’s came around the corner to pull into their driveway. He drove around the corner, window down and took more pictures of the house from the back. 

Hopefully the dude is a builder in the neighborhood who was checking out what kinds of awesome homes are being put up around here. Or maybe he’s really into the stone work on the outside of the house.  Or maybe he’s a psycho killer who is scouting out his next victims.  In that case, I imagine the conversation with the cop went something like this:

Psycho Killer: What seems to be the problem officer?

Cop: Well the people in this house right here called to see what you were up to.

Psycho Killer: Oh, I’m just trying to get all my ducks in a row before I bust inside this place, hack up those people who called you and eventually torch the whole thing.

Cop: Hmm.  Can I see your license for a second?  I’m going to want to have your name on file after this thing makes it to America’s Most Wanted.

Or, you know, something similar.

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