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June 13, 2008

Exciting Overnight

We have a Gladys Kravitz in our building.

Hell, I guess everyone does, really. Someone who makes it her business to know everyone else's. You can't receive a package without her asking, "Ooh, what'd you get? Who's it from? Is it your birthday? How old are you? Are you having a party?" and so on.

Bonus. Our Gladys is very loud. She doesn't have one of those "read the room" meters that allows her to know when she's overmodulating (which is always) and her favorite thing to do is to go out into the courtyard or front yard and blather on and on and on at 70dB about *anything* with anyone who will listen. (Poor mailman.)

Well, at 3:40am today, something terrifying happened. A loud crash that didn't stop for a while and ended with a car alarm going off. Scary and right out in front of our building and the kind of thing that woke us all up and sent us scrambling for the window to see if we needed to call 911.

A car was T-boned into the front of a parked car... but T-boning didn't make any sense because that would've meant this guy had come out of our neighbor's driveway and slammed into a car at 35 mph, which wasn't possible, considering the distance (and the sounds). The light of day revealed that he had been driving south on Lincoln and clipped a parked car, slammed it into the car in front of it, which slammed into the car in front of it, and because he was so drunk he didn't realize what was happening, he kept flooring it (clipped to/hung on the back of the first car) until he peeled around to the front of the car, landing T-boned after having shredded every outside edge of that car from its rear end to the front quarter-panel and having pushed that car so far into the curb that its tires all popped.

And, at around 3:43am, as we watched him try to figure out how to put his car into reverse to get off the car he had creamed the most, our Gladys Kravitz went running out into the street in her skivvies, on her cell phone with 911. She ran out to the car, right behind it, ignoring its reverse lights popping on and off as the driver tried to figure out how to back up and leave the scene (which he, of course, ended up doing). She asked, "Are you okay?" and since the guy had figured out how to turn off his blaring stereo but not how to leave the scene just yet, he staggered out of the car and toward her, to which she replied, "Sir, get back in your car. Sit down. You're in bad shape. You're in shock. Sit down."

He did and then realized he needed to turn ON his car again and then he was able to leave. Of course, he backed right into Gladys' direction, as she stood there in the middle of the street on call number two to 911, letting them know she smelled alcohol, it appeared he was about to leave the scene, and here's his license plate number.

Best part, she got to hang out in the street for an hour with cops and emergency personnel, got to ride in the back of the cop car to do the "identification of the suspect" up the road where he had been detained, and every neighbor who came out to see what was going on got to hear the whole story retold by Gladys--including the stuff she "figured out" but had absolutely no way of actually knowing, seeing as we were all inside our homes at the time of the impact.

Best BEST part, she gets to continue this story all day today, to anyone who will listen. And now that the owners of the parked cars across the street are coming by, she's on major neighborhood watch, so she can be the one to run out and greet them and tell them all about her encounter with the guy who wrecked their rides.

(Of course, I understand the irony that *I* am Gladys watching Gladys from my window and blogging about things she's only saying out loud and on a dozen phone calls and probably a few emails.)

Point is, it was a very exciting little bit of time in the overnight, and Keith and Quinn have enjoyed surveying the damage up close this morning and talking about drinking and driving, leaving the scene of an accident, physics of accident reconstruction, how to be a good witness, and all that cool father/son stuff.

Bless our Gladys and her loud mouth for being such a good neighbor. Truly. I may roll my eyes about her, but she's actually a good egg. Just a bit cracked.

Posted by bonnie at June 13, 2008 11:26 AM


She'll be telling that story for years. Four years from now, she'll say to you, "Hey, do you remember that time that guy........."
Suggested punishment for the guy: house arrest at her house. He'll never do it again. ;)

Posted by: CJC at June 14, 2008 8:44 AM

Brilliant! And you're so right. This will be "storytime" forever!

You're hilarious. Love the suggested sentence!!

Posted by: bon at June 14, 2008 12:13 PM

Having drinks with the guys: $200
Getting behind the wheel and Hitting umpteen number of PARKED CARS: Stupid
Leaving the scene: Super Stupid
Providing countless hours of storytelling: amazing
Aren't the cracked eggs of the world PRICELESS neighbors?

Posted by: Libby at June 14, 2008 9:35 PM

*Right*?????? :)



Posted by: bon Author Profile Page at June 14, 2008 10:36 PM

OMG! This is why I read your blog! I snorted coffee on my keyboard.

Posted by: Maria at June 25, 2008 4:39 AM

Aw... you really DO love me, Maria! :)

Now, be careful with that coffee out-snorting. ;)

So glad you enjoy your visits here. :) Hee!

Posted by: Bon at June 28, 2008 12:02 AM

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