Life on Lincoln
a.k.a. Gat City Blues  (keep reading, this one's good)

I'm sitting on my porch with Paul last night, when SUDDENLY . . .

A creepy white van rolled slowly down our street, it had the sliding side door open, and there were Men. In. Black. 

WITH BIG GUNS

(!!!)

Inside!  Staring at us with beady little eyes from behind their ski masks.  I said "Paul!!  It looks like there are men!!!  Inside the van!!!  With GUNS!!!"

He said, "It's a drive by!!!"

I said, "I'm calling the cops!"

<Insert Cops "Bad Boys" music>

Ok, so the white van rolls into a driveway across the street and 3 houses down from ours.  Like evil military clowns, men in black SWAT suits and ski masks start streaming in march time out from the van, big guns drawn.  The lead two take a big black stick, and within seconds of various testosterone-filled voices shouting "OPEN UP POLICE OPEN UP SWAT TEAM," they had rammed the door in with two calculated blows. 

9-1-1 remains undialed, looks like the police [are already] on the scene.  (you know what I mean - ha! Take that Tommy Boy - I got the song into YOUR head!)

Meanwhile, a sheriff's car pulls in directly across the street in the parking lot of the Governor's Rowhouse (which, incidently, is owned by my landlord) . . . said Sheriff starts pounding on that door and enters . . . two men in lesser SWAT suits emerge from thin air in the parking lot and begin hopping fences - one, two, three - over to the backyard of the yellow house now infested by big men in body armor.

<Been spendin' most our lives livin' in a gansta's paradise . . .> 

What do Paul and I do?  Go inside?  Duck and cover?  Oh noooooooooo - we jump up.  And Walk. Toward. The House.  Big white burly cop man standing solo across the street glares at us with meaty arms folded.  We giggle and I try to take pictures with my camera phone.  Nothing.  I call Tom and breathlessly try to fill him in.  We wait and giggle some more as Michelle pulls up and we fill her in on the high drama.  We wander back to the house and watch it all unfold from the safety of our porch.

Lights shine through the windows of the attic at the Governor's Rowhouse as they search aimlessly, for what?  Who knows.  Drugs?  Guns?  Prince Charles in a can?  It's a hot commodity in the underworld you know.  At The House down the street, men in black are exiting house with guns drawn, yelling at some unseen person, "GET OUT GET THE (censored) OUT!" 

A roly poly sheriff huffs and puffs as he runs to his car (don't they have to take agility tests after they've joined the force?!), he speeds off.  Sheriff at Governor's Rowhouse also speeds off, but leaves one of his comrades behind on the porch.  Oh so sad, to be the lonely little sheriff left to guard an empty house while your partner chases more exciting endeavors.

With little fanfare, the SWAT team piles stealthily back into the van, but several are still milling around the porch and yard, looking curiously like confused dogs who knew there was something tasty to chase, but the prey had escaped.  All over the neighborhood, the curious onlookers' hushed whispers turned to nervous laughter. 

(Here comes the best part!)

We watched as a beat up car rolled slowly to a stop in front of The House.  Was it a drug buyer, come to trade sweaty dollar bills for a dime bag?  Was it a lady of the night, come to sell her wares to the dirty drug lord?  Nope.  It was PIZZA DELIVERY MAN!!!  (say that in a radio announcer voice please)  He sauntered up to the sea-green house next door to The House and glimpsed nervously at body armor man still holding a large gun in the yard not 15 feet away.  I almost peed my pants we were laughing so hard. 

Just talked to the next door neighbors, seems our landlord does indeed own The House.  I called her to let her know the Governor's Rowhouse was being given a once over by gun-toting men, should've told her she was going to have a nice door bill on the other one.

Ahh, another sheriff.  Wonder if he's just late to the party. 

Do I *really* have to read real estate again?  This is SO much more exciting!!

YAY!  More SWAT team men leading a skinny white boy away in handcuffs!!  Good golly Miss Molly - one of the SWAT team boys is still in his ski mask!  WHY???

I *love* this neighborhood!

(two hours later, cops still on site - must be cleaning up the meth lab . . .)