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I thought I was going to be sorely disappointed there for a minute. It looked like Miss Faux Punk's parents were going to let her stay after all, that they were going to just help her clean up and go about her business of annoying the hell out of the neighborhood.

On rare occasions I can be a total bitch. I did something today which can only be construed as pure evil. I feel slightly guilty for doing it, but I feel as if I took a hit to the karma for the overall good of the neighborhood. Took one of the gipper, so to speak.

Faux punk girl's mother was sulking out at their car because faux punk girl was not moving out. So I positioned myself at the front window with my cell phone and called Christy. I then proceeded to tell her the entire story of what transpired last night in my loudest, "I'm a former cheerleader and my voice carries pretty far" voice, including the highlights of the jackass pissing out the third story window and the mad dash to the bathroom for the ritual flushing. I know the woman heard me, and I meant for her to hear every single detail. I also mentioned that the neighborhood had officially declared war, and that this has been a chronic problem.

As soon as I hung up the woman stormed into the house and not less than 15 minutes later faux punk girl was packing up the family car with her possessions. Something tells me that faux punk girl didn't tell the parents the full on story. Tsk tsk...bad faux punk girl, bad!

So that leaves faux punk boy in the house. He and his little posse of preteen friends have been brooding about the house all day, and they threw out a rug. I don't know what that means, but I'd be willing to bet the cops will be back at casa de faux punk later this evening. And I won't be the mean old cranky neighbor who calls the cops.

Yeah, so I feel slightly bad. I feel like the bitchy old neighbor who comes to her door with a baseball bat, yelling "Get off my lawn!" But it's really not about being a nosy asshole. If they would have moved in and had respect for the neighborhood, I and everyone else would have welcomed them into the neighborhood. But don't expect a relatively quiet and family-oriented neighborhood to put up with stupidity. I'm able to throw parties at the house and have a great time with my friends without incurring the wrath of the neighborhood. Dumbasses.

I'll be surprised if the remaining faux punk boy isn't gone within a week. The cops will be there probably every night, and I'm sure one of the neighbors has already alerted the landlord. What cracks me up about all this is that these kids think they're punk rock! For starters, how punk rock can you be if mommy and daddy have to come and lead you away in shame? Some of their friends actually drive a new Ford Taurus station wagon, for chrissakes! Sorry kids, that's not exactly punk rock.

Is it wrong that I'm getting enjoyment out of this?

Posted by Nicole at September 22, 2002 03:12 PM | TrackBack