oh, this place.
so, let me tell you what happened. i was so tired on friday night. SO tired. i just got an assistant at work, and his first day was last thursday, and i had spent 2 days showing him around, spending two hours out in the sun in east la, etc. i was t i r e d.
so imagine how surprised i was when, while making the turn onto my street, i see a police officer standing in the middle of the road, yelling at me to turn around. then, i notice the helicopter. only then do i notice the 6 or 7 other police cars. huh.
so i turn around and park on our cross street, gather up all the work i brought home and prepare to trudge up my block.
but no. can't do that either. no driving on the street, no walking on the street. APPARENTLY, there was a stolen car high speed chase that came down our cross street, and careened down centinela, crashing into a car or four, before the driver got out of the car, ran across the alley, jumped a fence, and hid UNDERNEATH a house across the street from me. and had been there, by the time i was standing on the corner with all kinds of literature on teenage girls and their self esteem to read over the weekend, for an hour and a half.
not soon after, my neighbor ella tried to make the turn, and i ran up to meet her and explain. she and i and her dog shep went around the back way, and tried to approach from the other end of the street.
that officer, being a tad less antisocial, gave us the scoop, and told us to run into our houses, as there was a K9 unit loose, attempting to drag the man from underneath the house. and so we ran, and went into our houses, and pulled the blinds back to watch.
within a few minutes, you could see the police stuff someone into the car, and shortly thereafter, ALL of the neighbors were out, introductions were traded. Vague plans for a block party are now under way.
all was peaceful all weekend long.
until sunday night. when i remembered that my car was parked a block away, in a monday no parking zone. i looked for my keys to go move it.
and looked for my keys.
and looked for my keys.
and looked, and looked, and looked for my keys.
the boy found them, when he took it upon himself to go down the street and look in my car. there they were, right where i left them: in the ignition. all the doors? unlocked.
three theories, you pick your favorite:
#1. inglewood = not quite as dangerous as the haters may say.
#2. i was being protected with good energy.
#3. boy, oh boy, is my car a piece of crap.