don't disturb the old hag who lives up here

The screaming and profanity awakened me out of a deep comfortable sleep. Oh no...not again... That party out back started around the 10:30 mark. 1/2 hour after the curfew. What do they care? I knew this was coming. Before retiring to the inner sanctum of celibacy, I shut all my windows, closed all the inner doors, and buried my body under several blankets to hunker down for the big fall out. Soon I was drifting.

I glanced at the blue light of my clock. 12:30. 2 hours to drink themselves into an aggressive and inconsiderate state. that's about right. I sat up in the dark, staring dismally through sheer curtains. The light sensor which was mounted on the large storage building behind the parking lot was illuminating about 10 cars, and there had to be 30 loud mouthed guys, late teens carrying on in the back lot. Booming voices echoing through the compound. F F F F F. Ugh. I hate this garbage and I'm gonna tell them to shut the f up. No. I'm gonna take the high road. No Fs, ands or butts. Wait...maybe I'll just call the cops. No. I'll warn them first. then I'll call the cops. I don't care if they think I'm a miserable old woman. Sonsabitches! I'm feeling like Jerry Stiller with a machine gun. Creeping myself out.

I tried to stand and bear weight on both feet, and immediately was reminded of an injury I had sustained this past Saturday at my friend's son's graduation party. Her nine year old decided to try to tackle me. He landed on my ankle. I screamed in pain but told him was OK, but for added guilt, added that I was 50 years old and that he had no business rough housing with old ladies. I started it, he said, and ran off. For some reason the swelling was delayed a couple of days after the incident. Prolly from being on my feet all day at work. This was the second night that it ballooned up with searing pain, almost unbearable, and though I had been elevating and icing it, and taking Advil at bedtime, it still freaking ached, especially with any movement. As if the muscles were being pulled from the bone. It was bad. Maybe time to get some Xrays.

So... here I was sitting there feeling like crap when it occurred to me that these complete asses where stealing my sleep. Menacing. How dare they? I'm a rent paying tenant. A working professional. I've gotta get up at 6:30 and take care of people for 10 hours. I was nasty. Fit to be pied. The F-bombs were almost constant, as one guy tried to out power the others with his "effing" this and that... How dare they? I hopped to the window and opened it.

As loud as I could, I shouted out from my darkened perch, " I AM GONNA CALL THE COPS IF YOU DON"T ALL SHUT... UP!!!!" Ooh, that felt good. I could hear the pent up frustration and anger in my voice. The noise stopped as everyone looked toward my upstairs bedroom window. I slammed the window to punctuate my threat. Wham. That felt good too. I've always loved the release of slamming doors. It's just beautiful thing that I've got more doors in this house than any place I've ever lived. The bathroom has 2, the kitchen has 2, then Dining room, 4. And then there's the Den and storage area, and 2 other closets. The other 4 closets have louvers, which are nowhere as satisfying and actually more of a nuisance to close. 12 doors. I could just slam everyone of them tonight. This was a window and I had to go alittle easier. But was was effective. There. Let em know that I'm serious. I hobbled out to the kitchen, and ate one of my comforting peanut butter cookies and some very cold milk. Then back to bed. Things quieted down some and I was able to drift into a semiconscious state.

1:30. It all starts up again. This time I am more livid than ever. Apparently a drunken brawl has drawn the crown back outside. I am up again, and just so pissed that these kids are ruining my beauty sleep. Feeling really ugly I dragged my badly beaten body to the window and calmly tell them, not that they hear, that they have left me no choice but to call the police. I advise them to get in their cars and leave the property or face charges of disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct, underaged drinking...I wait in joyful hope as a few cars leave the premises. And turn back to my haven of comfort. What the heck kind of father would allow his kids to have this kind of midweek party? I was completely not feeling the love. Oh sure, in the past, before this bacame a routine event, I would say, "ah, the kids need a place to party...let em alone." Bah. Where is that father? I still haven't met the man who allows these hoodlums freerange of the compound.

Ahah... Dad was at work. Of course. He has no idea. Well someone has to shut it down. I should have called at 12:30. By 2AM it was happening again. More screaming and profanity. Threats. One chick begging her drunk BF to get in the car. He won't go. 4 guys are screming at him to get in the car. SHUT UP. The whole thing escalates into a huge drama. The police are summonsed. They show up and drive onto the owners landscaped property, creating a huge muddy rut which I can make out in the darkness. great. The owner prides himself on his Home and Garden Award winning property.

That stupid resistant kid quickly gets into his friends car and they try to take off. The cops intervene and then send them off. Evidently there were more kids hiding out on the property, as the motherless children must have kicked everyone out of the house. It took about an hour or so before they finally left, but not before the thunder and lightning rolled in with the heavy rains... The single father of the kids came home and was looking around the property, probably for more lagers and broken glass. All said...like this unnecessary and lengthy post, it was finally over, as was my beauty rest. Before I knew it, the sun was up. I was exhausted, dragged through the day, bedraggled and disgusted.

Going to bed.