A few months back, I was telling y’all about the slight craziness that I had coming over me going from the bar to being at home telling stories to strangers for a living. In those discussions, I mentioned my neighbor. No, not my amazing neighbors with the well-behaved kids, not Shelby the dogsitter, that other neighbor.
The hussy. The one who gets a visit from the boy at the end of the street every day when her husband goes to work.
I believe my words were “someone is going to get fucked up over this shit before it’s all over with”.
Surprise!! Guess what went down today?
So, I’m minding my own business, telling dogs to give me at least 12” of personal space because I don’t like my mouth raped so they can taste the blueberry syrup I add to my coffee, and they didn’t even try to listen. Then, I hear some screeching. Then, I hear some yelling.
Aw, shit. It’s on, bitches.
So, due to the fact that I live in a fucking fortress with cameras, and night vision, and DVR’s, oh my, I click my mouse on the camera that watches the street and right side of the house…yep. Hubby is home early from work. Boy is making big ass strides across the front lawn toward his house.
It’s fixing to fucking go down.
The dogs know it. They’re straining to hear, so I do what any broad at home with minimal human contact does, and I crack the front door. No, not so I could eavesdrop. I wanted the dogs to be able to listen to the sounds of the storm that was rolling in. They like the rain as much as I do. As a matter of fact, we got so lucky and a few drops started falling. Perfect have coffee on the porch weather, actually.
Yeah, I did.
So, myself and these dogs hit the porch. Baby Jesus in a Manger. This dumb bitch got caught, red-nippled, so you can’t deny anything. The boy was putting his shirt back on as he was walking out of her house, so if they were not in the midst, they were close enough that someone was coming out of their clothing. His shirt was on when he got there at 9:39am. I wasn’t being nosy. I was watching the dogs as they were fighting over a frog as to who got to jump higher in fear every time the frog leapt toward them.
Sissies.
But, I digress. So, there’s much yelling, door slamming, the broad is going in and out of the house, once with her handbag to the car, but she went back in. No throwing of any personal effects out the door. No fighting on the lawn. No gunfire.
Not a very dramatic conclusion, I think to myself. Then the husband heads toward the boys house.
Aw, shit. we may get the dramatic conclusion after all.
So, the kid lives with his mother. A corrections officer, y’all chew on that for a second. I see hubby get there, bam on the door, mother answers and a short exchange. No raised voices. No sign of boy.
Again, not a very dramatic conclusion. Fast forward to now. They’re at it again, and this is alcohol-fueled because the slurring is very real, y’all. I’ll catch y’all up in a little while, because dollars to donuts, someone will call the sheriff if they don’t calm their shit down.
I’ll let y’all know the outcome when they get to the throwing out of the clothing, or some other split defining shit happens.
I’m concerned about the weather! Be sure to let us know if that gets any worse 😃
I am not nosy. I don’t care what you do nor who you do. Having said all that you have me sitting on the edge of my chair in anticipation of your next installment. I can hardly wait!!!
This is just not like me.
Normally I couldn’t care less just as long as what you choose to do doesn’t affect me, then go gettum as far as I am concerned. Stay out of my business and I will stay out of yours.
I am an observer of things. I will exercise due diligence. We live in dangerous times. Hypocrite you hurl at me? Might be, just a little, but I ain’t stupid.