Friday, April 5, 2019

Nocturnal Parking Lot Antics


Over the hedge, to the north of my position, lies a parking lot (above). It serves a gymnastic studio and a small strip of retail outlets for such things as uniforms (civilian type uniforms, when I went in looking for an 1805 Imperial Guard Chasseur à Pied uniform, they looked at me rather strangely... Just kidding, I didn't really do that), and various and sundry other things for which I am not in the market. (A quick search of the 'Net reveals that one of the businesses is an office for an outfit that provides food to schools. I've seen their truck parked there, now I know why...).

At any rate, on Thursday instant, in my ode to sleeplessness, I referenced an old post, from 2015, to wit -
Sounds a lot like work, far too much work for my tired brain to accomplish last night. Besides which I wandered off to read this old post of mine. Still gets hits from time to time, at least one yesterday. I guess the title draws in those folks interested in the proto-Romantic movement in German literature and music that occurred between the late 1760s and early 1780s.
Now that post drew a comment from Cerberus, er, I mean our archivist, one AW, aka Beans -
Sooooo..... poor excuse for SLACKING, blaming it on not sleeping. Yeesh. And here you had a perfect opportunity to practice POCYR over the antics of the parking-lot people and you STILL haven't. Double Yeesh!
Said comment generated the reaction, "What the bloody Hell is old Beansie on about now?"

So I went back to that old post and read this...
Before continuing I have to apprise you of a couple of things. One is that I have pretty good night vision, two is that the parking lot behind the estate is lit to prevent the ne'er-do-wells of the town from pursuing certain nefarious activities in said parking lot.

Remind me someday to regale you with some of the nonsense, hi-jinks and downright stupidity I have witnessed in that parking lot in the dead of night, when normal people are abed, the wicked roam the land and old guys get up to pee.
It all became quite clear at that point. It was one of those Provided Of Course I Remember (POCIR, pronounced poh-ker, like the card game) moments (which from Beans' point of view was a Provided Of Course You Remember (POCYR, pronounced poh-seer because, why not?) moment). Indeed I had forgotten, and in that moment a new acronym was born.

Obviously I Did Not Remember, OIDNR, pronounced OY-dinner! (And yes it has to be shouted.)

Immediately after coining said acronym I quickly went to the Acronym Page and added it, knowing full well that Cerberus Beans would be checking, as would Obergrammatikführer* Quandt, aka Paul the Grammarian (for those of you of a non-Teutonic persuasion). Which frustrated Beans to no end, to wit (yes, I like writing that) -
Ha! I checked the Acronym Page and it was there. Either you snuck a fix or you've been planning on using it on Paul or me for a while.
Sigh, "snuck it in," reminds me of this, that does -



How dare they talk about -



- that way, er, I mean "My Acronym Page." Yeah, that's right, Acronym Page (mustn't call it the Precioussss, nasty Florida Hobbit will beat on Smeagol, er, I mean Sarge).

So before time rolls on too much further...

Caught in Providence, I snapped this while in traffic. Dinnae fash yersels', The Missus Herself was driving.
I see that I have drifted way off course in my intent to relate to you the tale of the Nocturnal Parking Lot Antics, ahem, so here we go, a fanfare if you please -



Ah, love the sound of a good old-fashioned trumpet fanfare, brings to mind the days of...



Right then, I'd best get on with it...

Long ago I was a smoker, spending many an evening upon my deck puffing a cigarette and beholding the skies above, the skunk by my foot (covered here, during "Skunk Week"), and the antics of my fellow humans. Now in those days (over six years ago, I quit smoking in November of 2012, the 4th unless I am very much mistaken, which I'm not), the hedge seen in the opening photo was much shorter. In fact, the incidents which occur in this tale were probably over 12 years ago. So that hedge was a lot shorter back then.

So, once upon a midnight dark and dreary, as I lit up my smoke and quaffed a beverage, I sat down then beheld an automobile parked up by the building furthest from my border, er, property line. There were at least two people in that vehicle and they were behaving oddly (get your minds out of the gutter, that happens later).

I observed the vehicle at the location and observed that the suspects, er, occupants of the vehicle seemed to be drinking. I seriously doubt that they were imbibing soft drinks. As I didn't want to read about high school students getting killed in a drunk driving incident, I felt the urge to contact the local constabulary and report these nefarious activities. Yes, Dear Reader, I dropped a dime on those beyotches (a word I learned from The WSO, seriously).

The police came, chastised the Utes, er youths, confiscated their beverages and sent them on their way, no arrests were made, no breathalyzers were offered, none taken. They had been there only a short time. I do believe paperwork was done as the youths seemed rather put out.

Some weeks later I was again taking the night air when I observed a vehicle on the left of the parking lot, close in to my territory, er, property, and that said vehicle was full of smoke.

"Hhmm, I wonder if the car is on fire. Seem to be people inside, hhmm, they seem to be sharing a cigarette between the four of ..."

Springing to the phone (intoxicated people should not be allowed on the streets while operating a motor vehicle, maybe it's just me...) I dialed the local Polizeiamt and the following conversation ensued...

"Police, how may I help you?"

"Yes, this is The Sarge at Chez Sarge (I actually used my real name and address) and I would like to report some odd goings-on in the parking lot of the gymnastics studio astern my dwelling."

"What do you see?"

"Four Utes, er, youths, sitting in an automobile smoking. I thought it odd that they are sharing a single cigarette, I rather assume they are actually partaking of the demon weed, Mary Jane, pot, weed, marry-joo-wanna, ya know, grass."

Yes, the desk sergeant was chuckling at all that.

"I'll send a car out, do you mind staying on the phone until it gets there?"

"Not at all my good fellow, I'm your man."

So I repaired to high ground (bathroom window upstairs) and kept a weather eye on the "perps." Just before the squad car arrived, the suspect vehicle drove off. I told the desk sergeant this and informed him that the vehicle was red in color and appeared to be a late model Japanese make. I also told him that the vehicle had departed the parking lot and had then proceeded westbound on such-and-such street.

I saw the squad car at this point, swinging through the parking lot, turn his lights on and proceed at a high rate of speed in pursuit of those nefarious types smoking weed behind my house. Yes...


As I don't have a Garand, I call the cops.

Now the next, and thankfully last, incident occurred about a month before the owner of the land upon which the parking lot sits installed rather bright lights to illuminate the lot and deter those who would practice mischief therein.

Again, I was in my accustomed spot, cigarette in hand, adult beverage nearby, surveying the land spread before me. And that parking lot, in which was yet another vehicle, with two occupants who may, or may not, have been wrestling.

Not being a prude, I sat back and thought, "Hhmm, what have we here? Young people in love perhaps? Ah, I remember when I was a youth." Thinking that this was nothing evil per se, though some might disagree, I decided to finish my cigarette on the other side of the house, give the young couple some privacy.

As I stood to depart the vicinity, the driver's door on the vehicle opened. The dome light immediately came on ("Heh, amateurs." I said to myself) revealing two semi-naked human beings. Oh, I must avert my eyes, I am no voyeur, oh sweet lord it's two guys.



That being said, I began to have my evening smoke facing south, away from the parking lot. Like Lot, I never turned around. After the owner had installed the lights, which now made the parking lot look a lot like an East German border crossing, no further nefarious activities, that I could see, occurred again.

So Beans -



There endeth the lesson...




* Note that Obergrammatikführer is the German word (I just made up) for the Head Grammar Leader, or Guide, if you will. And I do. I'm not calling anyone a grammar Nazi, nope, pure coincidence that I coined that German word for... Oh, never mind, go read the rest of the post. Sofort! Mach schnell!

66 comments:

  1. Your long winded tale sparked a couple memories of me own... I had a skunk week once. I had a bud with a tremendous skunk hat. Mountain man type hat where the legs rested on your shoulders and the tail hung down your back. I desired that hat fiercely. Spending Christmas break at home, I paid the money for a trapper license, and set about trapping in the north end of the county. The last night, I got one. And he got me... I don't mind the odor, but my wife does. So, it's well after midnight, I crawl quietly in bed..... and she bolts upright and kicks me out of the room. I guess 'Ode du Polecat' can get stuck in your nose and waft out while your breathe. Who knew??

    It was too late to skin it, so I hung it in a tree, and then I pack the frozen beast in an old pillow case and strap it to the bumper of the Banana Boat (1976 LTD) the next morning. Two days pass, and safely at married student housing, me and the skunk have a date. Started on the legs, boys those scent glands are tough. My knife was sharp, but it was like cutting wire rope. I went and got some wire cutters.... no dice. I sharpened up my skinning knife, wrapped the gland around my finger and stood on the carcass, pull tight, start the cut, and I squeezed every last drop out of that scent gland onto the skin.... ruined.... And kinda hard not to yak up breakfast...

    I threw it into the dumpster we all shared, the day after it had it's weekly pickup... 6 days of vapor, I never lived that down. It seemed everyone on campus was arfing about the stink...

    And I still don't have a skunk hat....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hydrogen peroxide, and Dawn are your friends for that chemical's removal

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    2. STxAR - Do you still want a skunk hat? Not that I have one for sale, just curious.

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    3. Scott - So who is this Dawn person? Is she good at removing stink?

      ;)

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    4. It's actually, Hydrogen Peroxide, Baking Soda and a Grease Dissolving Dish Detergent, such as Dawn. Works like a champ, on Dogs, Clothes, and juvats (although each comes out somewhat blonder).

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    5. Said the voice of experience!

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    6. Skunks. Very cute on the Nature Channel, but not so cute when contact is close up.

      I suggest that if you and another officer are transporting a prisoner to the jail, don't run over a skunk, and especially don't run over an skunk that has been dead for a while and is getting, well, puffy.

      The resultant explosion spattered the van, and would have qualified as cruel and unusual punishment.
      When we walked the prisoner into the detention facility to do the paperwork, they told us to get out, and they would bring the paperwork out to us.

      Not our best night.

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    7. I wanted to do much the same with the first of my demon-racoon kills, but he had already stinkified up, and the guy who was going to show me how to skin it was late. Amazing how much room a huge bull racoon takes up in a garbage can, once I chucked the body.

      And JiP? Knew someone who loved running over carcasses in his city vehicle. Until the LT made him take it to City Service, jack it up on the lot, and scrub the bottom clean with a fingernail brush while the mechanics watched. Fun times, fun times....

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    8. John - Sounds like a real "no fun" situation. Depending on the crime, I may have cut the guy loose as being skunked might be punishment enough!

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    9. Beans - A bull raccoon, didn't know that's what the male of the species was called. I try to avoid those critters.

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    10. Actually the term is 'Boar' (yes, I just looked it up) but when my friend finally saw it, he said, "That thing's got bigger balls than a bull." So, well, in my head it was 'bull' but now will switch with 'boar.'

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    11. I dunno, I kinda like the term "bull raccoon." Probably why I don't work for National Geographic...

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    12. Sarge, I have never lost the smoking hot desire to skin a couple skunks and make a really decent hat. It's gonna become a quest at some point. I even considered (this past fall), of getting a decent sized cooler and a trapper's license again. I figured I could find enough road kill to make a whole suit!! When it's cold and they freeze, it would be too easy.... oh man..... Sitting in a blind, waiting for a coyote or a hog, faint smell of the greatest chemical warfare agent wafting gently on the breeze...... Stirs my....... imagination, it does....

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    13. PS: snorting soap suds and H2O2 isn't on the agenda. I can't imagine the sting... And skunk doesn't offend me in the least. I really like it.

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    14. If you ever make a skunk suit, we're gonna need pictures. You'll be world famous!

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    15. As for the soap suds and H2O2, I don't think you actually have to snort them.

      Though that would be entertaining...

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    16. Speaking of frozen varmints.
      We were visiting our farm friends near Pittsburgh and the farmer pointed to a groundhog at the edge of a field and asked if I wanted to take the shot.
      Three rounds of .22-250 later the groundhog was still there.
      Hmmm. There's something wrong with this picture.
      I jumped on the quad and zoomed out to the groundhog to find he was frozen solid and had been stuck into the ground via a short piece of rebar.
      I returned to find our friends and my spouse ROTGAL. (Rolling On The Ground And Laughing)
      Good one, and in my defense the varmint now had a nice trio of ventilation holes.
      Even now when we visit them and they point out any wildlife, I look to see if it moves.

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    17. I took a bath in Dawn if I remember correctly. A really hot bath. The smell was in my breathing apparatus (very neat explanation btw). Every time I exhaled, my wife got a dose. It was that way for a couple days.... May even had a yellow fog in my lungs for all I know. I mean, after I heard, "GAS GAS GAS!!!!!", I got enveloped in the yellow fog.... Too fast to pull up my bandanna. So I sucked in two lungfulls...

      Yes, sir. Thank you for the new terminology.... breathing apparatus... Mind if I borrow that?? I'll list it right close to wedding tackle in my thesaurus....

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    18. John - Hahahahaha!

      Brilliant!

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    19. STxAR - Feel free to use "breathing apparatus" as, and where, applicable.

      A good chortle there! I'm sure it wasn't funny at the time!

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    20. STxAR, if it doesn't hurt your feelings, you can buy skunk pelts on line or at most Mountain Men pow-wows. Spotted Pony Traders is a really good sundries supplier at Ren faires and Pow-Wows. And they're on-line and based nearby (me) in Hawthorne, FL.

      Of course, nothing is like shooting or trapping and skinning and de-stinkifying your own.

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    21. I don't know, wherever they source the furs from, so probably not, as FL skunks are kinda small and often more spotted than striped.

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    22. I did not know that. I'm more familiar with the northern ones, most definitely striped and some of 'em get pretty big.

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    23. Señior Frijoles, I will definitely check that out!! And if that doesn't work, maybe ye olde Sarge will consider sending me a road kill care package from little RI...

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    24. Now I wonder how I'd get that through the post office?

      ;)

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  2. Turned on his headlights, or the red and blue ones? You would be surprised what a turn around in a parking lot, with your alley lights on, will turn up.

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  3. Our first house was a row home in Philly's Northeast neighborhood.
    I was working at the shipyard and left rather early to head in for overtime.
    As I was getting into my car I glanced at the neighbors car and noticed...
    The driver's seat was reclined.
    There were two uniformed Philly police officers in the driver's seat.
    They were facing each other.
    They weren't moving, and may have indeed been holding their breath.
    They were sort of looking my way, but not exactly making eye contact.
    I did not yield to the temptation to tap on the window and say hello.

    I waited until I had left to driveway to break out laughing.

    I hadn't thought about that for quite some time.

    Good post!

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    Replies
    1. Sigh. Change that to say they were in the passenger's seat. I was rushing to try for the first comment!

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    2. Oh dear, those cops had some 'splainin' to do!

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    3. Ah yes, sometimes we stumble in trying to get that first comment in.

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    4. Practicing Prisoner Restraint techniques?

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  4. Very good chuckle first thing in the morning!! Thank you Sarge!!

    And STxAR!!! OMG!!!

    Tomato juice can help with the stink...

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    Replies
    1. The mountain man phase has abated somewhat. Now I'm in my mid 50's and I can grow chin whiskers... I was almost giving up hope of breaking out the other side of puberty....

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    2. Thanks Suz. I remember tomato juice being applied to our cat when we were kids, he'd tangled with a skunk and wasn't happy about the smell nor the tomato juice.

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    3. Ah, the mountain man phase, I think every country boy in the hills has one. I know I did.

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    4. Probably more accurate to say Plainsman phase, there was a big enough hill to sled on out that way....

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    5. Plainsman, well I lived out there for a while, I get that.

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  5. Nothing puts a damper on romantic moments like a policeman's flashlight shining in your car window, just saying.

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    1. Oh yes, not that I personally would know...

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    2. Almost as bad as the supposedly locked bedroom door being opened by one's mother. Amazing how two necked people can teleport, one into the closet, one behind said opening door.

      Amazing the negative effects on short-term priapism...

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    3. As the 'do-er' or 'receive-er'?

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    4. A few months after the wedding, we were visiting my folks. Mom popped in on us, stacked. Under the blanket, but still and all..... She asked a question, I answered, and the door closed. Both of us were a bit awkward after that for a while... Mom never acted like she knew.....

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    5. Oh dear...

      Yes, awkward. I do recall my brothers and I busting in on Mom and Dad on a Saturday morning, and retreating just as quickly. 'Nuff said...

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    6. I was in third grade. Dad had just come home from an extended TDY at Thule (he was stationed at Ent AFB at the time). He gave us some cash and told us to go to the 7-11 and buy whatever we wanted. It was about a mile away. We ranged in age from 9 (me) to 4 (my littlest sister). He was expecting a half hour, we were back in 15.....

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    7. Where's Paul Harvey with, "the rest of the story..."

      Oh dear.

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  6. Getting back to looking at things again...what a treat this was!

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  7. Excellent post. Knowing you, you spent more time working on the intro than working on the actual body. But good job. In most excellent OAFS' style. Keep it up. After watching Rhode Island on "Live PD" I expected something like these three moments to occur, but with more alcohol involved. "Now we go to Warrick, RI, where Officer X has pulled over yet another highly inebriated individual because everyone is drunk in Warrick, RI...."

    The third incident reminds me of my youth when I was necking with me girl at the time near the base commander's house at Patrick AFB. MPs stirred up by BC tend to have little humor towards youthly hijinks and exuberance. Or, maybe they've never seen two people trying to become one in the front seat of a Datsun B-210. Dunno. Way in my past now. And now they've really changed that base so any attempt to repeat it even with Cirque-du-Soleil levels of flexibility, maybe even in a Smart Car (which, of course, are dumb) would result in not two amused MPs and one unamused BC but a whole herd of military whoop-ass and much 'splaining to do while proned out half or morely naked on sand spurs while mosquitos and chiggers find tender parts of the body not already abused by sand spurs to torture.

    Still probably better than being rudely interrupted by the mom opening locked door to 'chat'...

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  8. Obergrammatikführer is a bit long, can we just shorten it to ogf? Ogf Quandt does have something of a ring to it, does it not?

    The rest of today's offering was very good as well.

    Thanks for the post.
    Paul L. Quandt

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    Replies
    1. So let it be written, so let it be done!

      "Ogf" has been added to the Acronym Page!

      Thanks Ogf Quandt. ;)

      Delete
  9. Stopping smoking is good, for seven years is gooder [yeah, I know].
    Saves lotsa dinero, too.

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    1. Saved lots of money from quitting (not to mention the wear and tear on the old breathing apparatus).

      No urges to return to that foul habit are also a very good thing!

      Delete
  10. I had words in Emeryville with a parking lot owner next door to my house. Told him that the light he installed may shine all night on his building but if it persisted in shining on mine that he'd be replacing it 3 or 4 times per week due to the elves in the neighborhood that don't take kindly to 5000 watts shining all night. Pesky elves.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, depends on the candlepower shining through the windows. Fortunately this one isn't bad, also saves me money on electricity for those middle of the night visits to answer the call of nature.

      But yeah, those elves can be awfully pesky. :)

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  11. While I can't tell the distance between the hedge and that building, I'd expect that's a popular place for the type of incidents you mentioned.

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    Replies
    1. When there were no lights it was very popular. Secluded and all.

      Now in addition to the lights, the local constabulary will swing through from time to time.

      Looking back on my youth, it's good to live in the boondocks.

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    2. I don't know how young people these days find places to neck or watch submarine races or whatever in this day of cameras and cops everywhere. Back in the Day, even I could find good spots. Today? Not so much.

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    3. Can't live in the bigger towns, cities are right out. Need to be out in the wild.

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  12. If you don't have a Garand, you should take immediate steps to rectify the situation. The U.S. government is selling them to civilians through the Civilian Markmanship Program. http://thecmp.org/

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    Replies
    1. Now there's a thought. For now my G-34(t) will have to suffice.

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Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)