I must bring the ghetto with me.

The husband and I finally called it a night around 12pm last night. But apparently that was just the beginning of monkey hour for some or our neighbors. Being that I'd lived in Downtown San Jose for about 5 years I didn't really care. Being lulled to sleep by the sound of sirens, glass breaking, and Rap music is all very typical there. But then it occured to me that we just MOVED out of downtown into the more "peaceful" suburbs and the loud screaming me-mes I was currently hearing were, well, supposedly out of place.

Nothing like the tranquil sound of "leh me go, leh me gooooo, ohmygod - leh me gooooo mofo!" to relax you into a good night's sleep.

Then the glass breaking.

For those of you who live in less than savory areas you know that this is the queue to jump up and...go to the window. Some of you might have considered calling the po-po at this point (that's what we call them in the ghetto...the "po-po"), but that requires way too much involvement. I've witnessed enough domestic disputes in my neighborHOOD to know that if you call the police you are automatically involved and have to stay up until a resolution is reached so you can give a statement. In the beginning I used to feel guilty about not calling the police - but if I really believed that what was ensueing was more than a simple dispute then I'd be on the phone.

So here we are, in our supposedly more "calm" neighborhood, peering out the window trying to figure out the details of the Jerry Springer-esque drama unfolding before us. From what I gathered we had WifebeaterGuy and his girlfriend living in an upstairs apartment across the street. Living with them is a kid who likes to yell "daddy NOOOO" a lot. Then there's OversizedJerseyGuy. WifebeaterGuy doesn't like OversizedJerseyGuy very much - we discerned this because he liked to call OversizedJerseyGuy "mutha fucker" and "cock sucka" a lot. Now we're just assuming animosity here - maybe those are pet names, but I'm thinking no. For about 10 minutes WifebeaterGuy and OversizedJerseyGuy stood really close together with their chests all puffed up saying really interesting things like "wha'd you say mofo?", "huh? huh?" and "come on bro - come on!" while pounding their chests.

Who ever said guys were bad communicators?

This dance went on for a bit and was occasionally interupted by OversizedJerseyGuy pushing WifebeaterGuy and then RUNNING the other way. I'm not kidding here. He would push, then run. This would be followed by WifebeaterGuy yelling "that's right sucka - you run bitch!". This apparently hurt OversizedJerseyGuy's feelings and so he'd stop running, turn around and start coming back to talk to WifebeaterGuy. They'd walk in circles some more - push, run, etc.

Then the girlfriend, who is on the balcony, got the grand idea to throw a wooden folding chair down at the two of them. I think she intended to only throw it at OversizedJerseyGuy, but who knows, maybe she didn't like WifebeaterGuy so much either. WifebeaterGuy starts going up the stairs because he's SO done with OversizedJerseyGuy and wants to get back to watching COPS on tv. OversizedJerseyGuy decides that the (now broken) chair makes a great weapon and starts pitching pieces of it up the stairs at the girl and the kid. We're talking PITCHING here, like pitching a baseball. Seriously, this guy had an arm. It was right about here that I considered calling the "po-po". The kid was in danger at this point and, oh I don't know, I just didn't trust his mother to protect him. But then WifebeaterGuy started charging down the stairs after OversizedJerseyGuy and he took off running. Running like a scared little girl. WifebeaterGuy hits the pavent and starts in after OversizedJerseyGuy when all of a sudden gravity got really really BAD and he fell.

Yes, he fell.

Right on his fat face.

Up until now I had grown a little bit of respect for WifebeaterGuy. He was doing a pretty good job of defending his territory. And OversizedJerseyGuy just reminded me of a Chihuahua with an attitude problem (more so than usual). But that was just sad. Sad in a hilarious sort of way.

But he rebounded! He got up and ran after OversizedJerseyGuy down the block. Meanwhile, the girlfriend took this opportunity to grab an armful of clothes and run to her car. Without the kid I might add. Mother of the year contender right there.

What fun. What a great way to wind down the evening! We crawled back in to bed and kept an ear perked for anymore live Jerry Springer action, but none came. We've been in our new place for only 3 weeks and already a domestic dispute. What a nice way to make us feel at home! I really must send WifebeaterGuy and his girlfiend a fruit basket.

Maybe I really do bring the ghetto with me.