This is a 6am escapade I’d rather forget, but it’s an escapade nonetheless, so here goes readers…
So the other morning I was sleeping in my cozy bed, fans in the windows blowing in the cool mountain air that comes through the canyon every night, when I was rudely awakened from my peaceful rest by a horrific crashing sound. A sound so loud even a few of my “dead to the world” sleeping daughters woke up. By the time we threw on some clothes and made it out the front door to see what all the commotion was all about, we found what looked like a neighborhood block party in progress directly in front of our house. Twelve people in all, out to see the cause of the loud crashing sound. May I remind you, it’s 6am. It took only seconds to deduce that the black Kia Spectra abandoned in the middle of the road had crashed into the work trailer attached to my husband’s truck. I’ll get back to the story of what happened in a minute, but allow me to digress for just a moment.
Let me tell you about my guests at this impromptu 6am block party:
- tall dark and handsome, calm, collected, and good-in-a- emergency, firefighter neighbor on the left
- quiet, logical neighbor on the right (who just so happens to be the father of the calm neighbor on the left)
- what- can- I- do- to- help- you- today neighbor from down the road we affectionately call “crazy old Maurice”
- Crazy old Maurice’s adult son, decked out in his button up flannel airplane jammies
(Neighbors who read Coffee Break -I’m counting on you to keep these descriptions to yourselves for the sake of peace in the neighborhood. If you know who I’m referring to as crazy old Maurice, don’t you think that’s a perfect nickname for him? I can’t take credit though – that goes to firefighter neighbor on the left.)
On with the list…
- random concerned, let-me-see-if-I can-chase-this-guy-down-in-my-white -SUV-and-save-the-day stranger
- random freaked- out, 911-calling stranger, who arrived on foot from who knows where, in gym shorts and black ankle socks with no shoes
- my 22-year-old, stressed out, I’m-moving-back-to-college-with-that-truck-and-trailer-in-a-few-hours daughter
- my 13-year-old, wrapped-in-a-blanket-happy-for-some-excitement daughter
- my 19-year-old, CSI-loving-Horatio-Caine-wannabe, playing let-me-help-you-solve-this-crime daughter
- my husband, owner of truck and trailer and all around great guy
- myself, innocent concerned bystander…hee…hee
And last but not least…
- Young Officer Harding, of the fine local police department, who also happens to have gone to high school with firefighter neighbor on the left
On with the story of how we all came to be gathered that morning. It seems that the driver of the Kia was driving down my street way too fast in the dark early morning hours. For some reason he veered to the right swerving into my husband’s trailer, just missing the truck and my CSI daughters car (which was thankfully this time, parked in front of the mailbox) He hit the trailer so hard that it whipped the trailer out into the road at a right angle to the truck it was attached to, setting off his air bag and shattering his windshield. Thanks to the logical neighbor on the right who was peering out his front window, we know that he tried unsuccessfully to restart his car in an attempt to leave the scene of the collision. When it wouldn’t start, he took off on foot, leaving his car behind smack dab in the middle of the road, horn blaring. It’s at this point that everyone at the block party showed up – all within a 5 minute time frame. Too bad I didn’t have some Cheater Banana Bread and juice handy for such an occasion.
It seems the driver not only left behind his car, but also his wallet in the console…not too smart if you’re going to leave the scene of an accident. But then he tried to cover his tracks by calling in a stolen car report as he was fleeing. And then the police officer did a search of the car and found a nice little surprise under the driver’s seat…a LOADED GUN. You should have seen CSI daughter’s ears perk up at the mention of the gun. She was ready to run into the house in true CSI fashion to grab a brown paper bag and marker for the evidence. Sadly for her, it seems the officer had it all under control.
So now we sit and wait patiently to let the police department solve this crime, and in the meantime out front sits our broken trailer (which crazy old Maurice happens to be trying to fix even as I type.)What a way to start the day… 6am block party, complete with loaded gun, abandoned car, and concerned neighbors and strangers who rushed in to help.
You gotta love life in a small town!
Enjoy your Coffee Break