At the end of the porch I see the street blocked off by a policecar. A policeman tells me to come back inside and outfront. I clearly am panicked that some psycho-deranged crack addict is in my apartment and is going to strangle me with my stupid PC DSL cord while I am en route picking up my keys, and shoes, and wallet. In the hall, my upstairs neighbor is clammoring downstairs telling me not to go outside because theres a suspicious package. I didn't need to know anymore.
I'd been staring at this package from my bed for a week.
It never once occurred to me to place an anonymous call to the bomb squad (who incidentally has a huge tour bus). I tried to step off my porch to approach them and they wouldn't have it and came over. I explained that it had been there a while and before that one there were others. The owner of Cafe HOn also said that she had seen plenty of bags around- full of clothes. We explained this was a common occurence. Homeless people use it as a changing post for some reason. The bomb-squad guy seemed bewildered and embarrassed and said, "well, we got the call, and we were just responding, maam". Thanks for looking out, gov. It seems silly that anyone would want to bomb or anthrax sweet ol Hampden right?
The disturbing thing is how anyone else can see the bag but little old me?
4 comments:
Oh goodness, I can see a plume of smoke rising over hampden from my window.
Crap, does this mean I'm going to have to update my links page again?
Fucking dead links.
eebmore- that was my pop tart burning up in the toaster oven.
It sounds like you need a blogger maid.
There are ... blogger maids? Do they work for non-blogger blogs?
Malnurtured Snay- It seems like there is probably some program or website that performs this action, but I actually have no idea. I was just speaking on behalf of the fact that should I blow up, my blog legacy would be reduced to the frustration of cleaning up my dead link for eebmore.
Maybe I should start a part-time service?
Post a Comment