Pretty Plump Pumpkin Pulverized
It was stupid of me to leave it out past Halloween. I was tempting fate and I knew it. It was such a nice, plump pumpkin. I’d seen the looks on the faces of punks walking past my house. They wanted it. It was the Siren pumpkin, singing to them to be smashed. They could not resist.
This episode took me back in time, to October 2002, when I first moved to New Albany. As a proud new homeowner, I’d purchased a pumpkin and placed it on my front porch. Twenty four hours later, I was shoveling pumpkin innards from the middle of the street.
After five years of intense counseling, I had decided to take the plunge again. I’ve matured in the past five years. I will handle this loss better. That pumpkin had a good run on the porch. It was just his time. It’s just part of the circle of life for a pumpkin.
My porch - a place of comfort for me and skinny inebriated women
After five years of intense counseling, I had decided to take the plunge again. I’ve matured in the past five years. I will handle this loss better. That pumpkin had a good run on the porch. It was just his time. It’s just part of the circle of life for a pumpkin.
My porch - a place of comfort for me and skinny inebriated women
In what appears to be an unrelated event (and the reason I noticed my pumpkin was missing) a drunken woman was pounding on my front door at 1am. That’s actually what the clatter on the front porch was.
Police were called. The little lady has been removed.*
Police were called. The little lady has been removed.*
Oddly, the skinny drunk chick had initially started pounding on the door and then took a rest in one of my comfy porch chairs. Stunned, I simply gawked out the window for a few moments. But then she started pounding again. By that time, the police had arrived.
It’s been an unusual night on the Bough.
*Note: It was only a couple months ago when my sister, who lives in the suburban mecca of Plainview, relayed a very similar story to me. A distressed woman had awoken her entire family one night banging on her front door. I only mention this because stuff like this happens every where, not just urban neighborhoods.
It’s been an unusual night on the Bough.
*Note: It was only a couple months ago when my sister, who lives in the suburban mecca of Plainview, relayed a very similar story to me. A distressed woman had awoken her entire family one night banging on her front door. I only mention this because stuff like this happens every where, not just urban neighborhoods.
4 comments:
Geez! And I thought life over here on East Main was exciting!
I'm trying to encourage my cousin to buy a house on the Bough. I'm also trying to decide whether to tell her that story or not.
For that matter, she's a skinny lady who's been known to have a few...
Oh, go ahead and tell her. In five years, this is only the 2nd time I've called the authorities. That's not a bad record.
Don't tell her about the flute and the woman in the Care Bears pjs . . .
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