| Saturday, January 21, 2006 |
| Bad Boys . . . |
Another post title, another song.
As I was wrapping up that last post I heard some banging outside. There were three punk kids throwing stuff at the front door of the business across the street. They were younger kids [ages 12-14] but you never know who's packing around here so I called 911. They said they'd send someone right away. The kids kept pounding the glass door with a bar until it finally shattered. Instead of running far away, they half ran through the parking lot and hung out. The waited around for about fifteen minutes after my call and then walked up the street. A squad car pulled up half an hour later.
I know the police can't be everywhere but, with all the cop cars that fly up our street, you think they might have had someone come sooner. When the officer arrived I crossed the street to show him the damage. One glass door was slightly damaged, and the other was shattered. There's no way I could ID those kids, so I guess the business will have to make an insurance claim on the door.
Life in the city. You can't get much better than this. |
yet another musing of steve-o @ 9:16:00 PM  |
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