The beat we live in.

Christmas came and went. We had no more cars ticketed, cited abandoned, or towed.

Overall, a good holiday.

Come Tuesday Trevor decided to take advantage of his day off and head over to the police department and see if he could talk to someone there about the recent “issues” we had been having with the crazy old lady.

We thought it might be best to start some sort of record in case we had to push any kind of harassment suit.

Now, keep in mind we have always kept a sense of humor about our neighbor. We are not stressed, freaked out, angry, frustrated, or pissed off.

Life is too short - and seriously? This is pretty freakin' amusing. By the time that I'm writing this (oh, like 2 months after the fact), we actually look for ways to push our limits with the old bitch. I mean, really. We're not going anywhere, she's probably going to live to be 110, so we may as well make this a little entertaining.

But, that being said, we also know how fine a line it is between being annoying in a psychotically eclectic sort of way and being a flat out pain in the ass that’s costing us money.

We know how important it is to make sure your ass is covered when they stop being harmless, and start getting expensive.

We’ve both dated people like that.

So, Trevor headed off to the small town USA police station to file some sort of record with the station and ended up actually talking to the police officer that “runs our beat”.

Yes.

Apparently do we not only have just ONE cop that is in charge of our neighborhood…

But we live in a “beat”.

That’s right.

Very nice guy as it turns out.

A very nice guy that is very familiar with the “woman next door”.

Apparently she makes frequent calls to the police department for a whole litany of reasons. He informed Trevor to “not worry about it”, “she’s harmless”, and we’re “not special, she does this to everyone”.

Oh gosh.

And here I was hoping we were her “special” victims.

Now that I know that she treats EVERYONE like this, I feel used.

So basically, as long as we continue to obey the law, and refrain from parking 6 inches into a red curb, we should be ok.

For the most part that put our minds at ease. What anxiety we DID have about the issue anyway.

But we were not looking forward to the frequent conversations we would be having with the police – scratch that – this one cop guy, because we knew we would soon begin a lot of construction around the house.

And neighbors usually don’t like construction.

And neighbors that already suck and have the police on speed-dial?

Yea.

We were starting to think we should keep a box of donuts and a fresh brewed pot of coffee on hand every weekend.