Home sick today
I hate summer colds.
Someone please place a protection spell over Miranda.
Thank you.
Neighborhood chop shop ring
This morning Miranda and I found ourselves unwittingly involved in an investigation of a possible neighborhood chop shop scandal! The primary suspect? Our next door neighbor and local realtor, Maureen!
(Background on Maureen: she’s the realtor that our landlord hired last year to try and sell the house we’re living in. After a bitter turf war over our apartment, I’m sure you can understand when I say there is no love between Maureen and us. And why any implication of her running a chop shop out of her garage makes us giddy with delight.)
We were tipped off to these allegations by an Officer of Considerable Girth this morning in the alley, as we were loading the car for a trip to the recycling center. The conversation basically went down like this:
OOCG: Did you call me?
Me: Hmm… no.
OOCG, pointing back toward Maureen’s trash: We got a call about a possible chop shop being run out of the alley here.

Me, leaning out of the garage to find three crumpled bumpers and a tire next to Maureen’s trash cans: Really?! Crazy!
OOCG: Do you know your neighbor?
Me: Yes. I doubt Maureen is running that kind of operation out of her garage. She’s a realtor. (devil on left shoulder chimes in) But she does have two daughters in their young twenties. Not sure what they do.
OOCG: Do you know if she’s home?
Me: Hmm. No. I just got out here. Actually, I thought you were here about the graffiti. A couple garages have been tagged this week. Our garage got tagged last year. As a matter of fact, there’s been a lot of graffiti in Andersonville lately. Up at Women and Kids… they recently got hit pretty badly, Reza’s not too long ago… and there’s a house on Berwyn down the way… and there’s some up…
OOCG, cutting me off, sounding concerned: Really? I hadn’t noticed. They all got the same tags?
Me: *Shoulder shrug*
OOCG: Ok, well I’ll start coming down these alleys then. Thanks for your help.
Then he drove away.
Part of me really wants Maureen to be using her schmoozy, pushy ways to pedal stolen car parts. But, sadly, I think I remember seeing some other bumpers down the alley in front of another neighbor’s trash cans about few weeks ago. I didn’t think much of it then, because clearly I have not watched enough Law & Order or CSI Miami to immediately think chop shop at the sign of an abandoned bumper. But it does appear someone is just dumping bumpers in hopes of throwing the cops of their trail, or framing Maureen! Maybe she’s done one too many dirty house deals or sold one too many lemons? The curiosity is killing me!
unremarkable…
…the best damned word I’ve ever heard.
Your cat-scan was “unremarkable”.
Now pass me a cold one.
Overheard at the Berwyn el stop this morning
Said vehemently. To no one.
“You’re STILL like my toe!”
*pause*
“My BIG toe!”
Snap!
Happy Cicada Day!
How does one celebrate Cicada Day?
By running for your life between destinations and hiding for the next six weeks? Ok, cool.
Apparently, it’s on.
I give you cicada mania.