This morning came the hover craft, the cop helicopter that comes in low and circles its prey. The blades, that close, beat loud enough that you can feel the sound. It drove Millie into the house and me into the front yard to see what in hell was happening now in the hood.
There was a squad car parked in front of the house in the middle of the street and two cops, one male, one female, got out and advanced slowly down the street. They walked in the street and get this, at the time of rush hour traffic. Do you think the fucking asshole drivers that use our street to cut off a wait at the light would fucking slow down?
Fuck. No. I was surprised they didn't just swerve but didn't honk the hell out of their fucking horns for the inconvenience when they went around the squad car. Morons, really, I mean you come up on a squad car with its lights on stopped in the middle of a neighborhood street with two cops walking slowly in front of their car and you would think they would register alarm. Fuck that, they have to get to some miserable fucking job as if their life depended on it. They swerved and sped on.
Some old guy came out of a house down the street. He talked with the cops and another cruiser came up and they talked, then--everybody left.
The fucking commuters could go back to commuting and the hood settled down to some hot, mid-west sultry weather. The action did drive the young piano player guy that lives in the Palace next door out to see, 'Whass Up?' Daddy told me once that his brother's son played the piano. They have a shit load of people living in their Middle Eastern Palace, and the kid actually came out of the fucking house, that I know of, in two years they been living there to take a look at the hood.
Snob too, not interested at all in talking about dick size or crochet, let alone raising chickens. Fuck'em.
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