Well, ladies and gentlemen, some poor soul didn’t take my advice today, and now he is headed to the county clink.
For disturbing the peace, and for resisting without violence.
For the record, he never disturbed any of the peace around here, but that terrible hosebeast of a wife of his disturbed her share, his share, and half of the cul de sacs share.
So, today he rolls in like he typically does before the weekend, which is early and carrying a case of alcohol. Now, if you can handle your drink, I have nothing to say. As you all know, many alcoholics paid for many great pairs of stilettos currently residing in my closet. However, when my neighbors drink, shit gets live and it gets live fast.
This is the sign it’s about to get nasty: he will turn on the stereo, and he’ll go to his patio, which is in direct line of sight to my front porch. This is where I have seen her throw drinks on him, stand mere inches from his face and yell for help, but the man literally had not raised a hand to her.
That’s about the time I started wanting to punch her in the face. She’s making light of domestic abuse, and I really and truly have no patience for a cow like that. I digress.
The stereo will be playing at glass breaking volume, I’m presuming so he doesn’t have to listen to her ask 5,814 times why he is still sleeping with his baby’s mother. Every. Single, Damned. Time.
Then she’ll go on some tangent about whatever set her off to start in about the baby’s mother, be it he dropped milk off, or the child needs school shots, what have you. Then it’s back to why he’s sleeping with her.
It’s a really tired ass routine.
She’ll escalate her volume, and as she gets louder, she gets more accusatory. She’ll imply that as he passed her to go inside, he shoved her. Meanwhile, everyone on the street has been out here watching, and he did no such thing. It continues this way, sometimes until 2 or 3 in the morning, but sometimes, one of them passes out I think. We’ll get two or three hours of peace, then they’re back at it, sometimes until they leave for work.
Functional alcoholism. No doubt about it.
So, today, they started up extra early. I was running a few things in and out of the house, and it was superhyped at like 2pm. Hmmmm…..
So I ask Otto next door what is bringing out the demon this early in the day. Apparently, while I was away, the baby’s mother came by. School supply exchange. In the driveway.
Nope. He, I am able to hear at a very high screech, was able to sleep with her right there in the driveway, with all of the neighbors out, and it was simply to spite her drunk ass. I don’t know if this bitch is mentally ill, or really how someone could be so jealous that their whole train of thought is completely empty when it pulls into the station, but this one is a real forehead smacker.
So, she’s screaming, etc. etc. And then, they broke one of the cardinal rules. She threw a bottle at his truck, and the broken glass drew the No Nonsense Nadine from the circle out of her house.
Aw damn. This isn’t good. And it wasn’t.
Cue the blue lights. Woo woo. And they’re still yelling (by they I mean her) as the sheriff pulls up. And just as I suspected, he is cuffed up off the rip.
And he stays that way. And they put him in the car.
Damn.
So another deputy is down at No Nonsense Nadine’s place, I’m guessing for her statement. Drunk hosebeast is drunk and crying and flailing. Deputy is telling her one of them is going and she needs to shut her trap before she gets the Quick Draw McGraw cuff trick done on her dumb ass.
I don’t know what the man said to them, but whatever it was, they had him in the car within 5 minutes.
A guy I went to school with is a bondsman. He’s really good people, and I think the world of his 6’6 former linebacker ass. So I pull his card out, and I walk it to the deputy to give to the dude. Then I call the bondsman and tell him the discussion that needs to take place when he gets this guy out.
The hosebeast was trying to slur something in my direction, but snot bubbles make me incredibly nauseated, so I didn’t even address her. Ok, so I didn’t address her because I want to punch her in the face. Same difference.
So, hopefully when my friend posts his bail, it will be a part of the bond or pretrial condition that dude can’t go back to that house. Although, without a domestic violence charge, I’m not certain that the court will mandate he go elsewhere. I’m crossing my fingers that my guy will order it in the bond paperwork.
Maybe we can finally get some damned sleep in this neighborhood again.
I have male friends who have found that it doesn’t matter who hit who or who started what, unless the female goes after an officer or some such, the male is going to jail. I’m with you—it makes it so much harder for people who are REALLY being abused when witches like this go to town on their men. I know one such woman who would open the windows, then scream STOP HITTING ME!! at the top of her lungs is the hope that one of the neighbors would call the police. When repeated attempts at this failed, she accused him of molesting their 4-year-old daughter.
He eventually got away from her, the kids were irreparably damaged, and she died as she lived, an unrepentant psycho alcoholic.