I live in a small town north of New York City – the drive anywhere from an hour-and-a-quarter to seven days, depending on the traffic on the West Side Highway. It’s quiet and rustic up here, neighbors wave to one another, and noise ordinances are strictly enforced. Don’t let the tranquil image mislead you, however, our police force is very busy. Which is why I cannot wait for the local newspaper to arrive every Friday so I can check the Crime Report. Here are some of the more exciting excerpts – verbatim, no word changes – I swear.
Thurs. Oct. 4 10:27am – Suspicious incident, Rolling Meadow Lane. A neighbor saw something happening, but police determined there was no problem.
Friday, Oct. 5 10:20pm – Police called to homeowner’s report of a woman crying next door. When police arrive, they found the next door neighbor on the phone with her sister.
Thus. Oct. 11 6:20pm – Suspicious incident, Salem Road. Complainant heard noise, then alarm beep. Low battery signal.
Fri. Oct. 12 10:20am – Animal, West Avenue. Report of raccoons in dumpster in business district. Company notified to fix cover of dumpster.
This last is somewhat of an exaggeration because you can’t really classify a local market and hardware store as a “business district.” Nonetheless, we do have a raccoon problem. The cities have gangs, we have raccoons. Not inherently dangerous unless you try to hone in on their turf.