So last night was fun. Got to meet some neighbours, get a real feel of the psycho-social dynamic of my neighbourhood. All in all, a pretty solid night.
Thanks to my sweet staying awake skills (insomnia for you “glass half-empty” types) I was scouring the internet for cool coffee mugs when our security alarm (you know, the one I didn’t really know we had) went off at 3:30 a.m. Because I’d only been vaguely aware of its existence before that moment, I didn’t know how to make it stop. As I tried vainly to guess which predictable code my precious treasure had chosen, he poddled down the stairs and flapped his hands at it blindly until the right sequence was achieved. Sadly, we could still hear something. And by hear something, I mean feel our temples oscillate and eardrums bleed.
Tightening the sash to my super-rad oversized baby-blue bathrobe with little blonde fairies all over it, I poked my head outside to see the house across the street doing a soft light show while blaring an enraged Big Bird mating call to the marketing firm down the block – which was performing a coy dubstep emu warble in return. After grasping what noises were coming out of where, I wandered over to see if the neighbours were okay. As I leered into their living room window the problem became evident: Ah. I am understanding… am super detective. Big Bird continues because no one is home.
Realising I could do nothing, I walked up the drive to return to my electric-bird-free home. Suddenly three cop cars came shooting up the hill, making a beeline for the marketing firm down the block. Helpful people! Maybe help! As they drove past, they see a woman, in the dark, in a house coat (bright baby blue with blonde fairy princesses all over it you’d forgotten) walking away from a house with a very insistent alarm wailing at tragic volumes. Even if they didn’t think I was in distress, they must have understood that maybe the house was in need of some form of intervention? And before you ask, yes. I know they saw me. I made eye contact. Male passenger, female driver. They didn’t even give me a courtesy nod.
At this precise moment the neighbour next to sexytimes Big Bird comes out, sees me, sees the cop car fly by and starts shaking his head. “Did’i just bloody see them drive by a woman alone in her bloody nightgown comin’ ou’ a house with an alarm going off? Disgrace. What chance have we got, eih?” Well sir, I am glad you asked. We have whatever chance a nosy Canadian and middle-aged gentlemen have in the middle of the night on a block where the police won’t even stop if they’re being hailed. We got to chatting and he then informed me that the owners of the loud house were on holiday. We tried to ascertain the name of the security company, whether it was worth calling their daughter and asking if there was a spare key, etc…when suddenly. Silence.
That silence lasted for an entire 3 seconds before the dubstep emu down the block at the marketing firm started to blare again and more emergency vehicles came up the hill, flying right past us. We stood around exchanging stories about local police ineptitude for another few minutes and eventually bid each other goodnight. After locking my door behind me, I checked on our rabbits who were alright, if not curious and peckish. I dispensed treats. Everyone went to bed. My precious treasure, his tuckered little head on his pillow, grumbled about his early alarm and I told him, “Don’t worry! 4 more hours of sleep! That’s plenty, it’ll be fine.” He grumbled some more before dozing off. As I typed that last sentence, the house across the street started performing an encore. The electro birds have begun the beguine again.