Saturday, November 8, 2008

Somethings cooking.

Every Saturday night, while the mother of the other duplex residents is working, they start cooking. 

It ain't no creme bruele.  

They crack their garage door a bit, and get to cooking.

Then the cars come, just a few, but always different ones.  

Maybe he is not a good cook. 

Tonight it was a guy, probably in his early 30s with a crying kid in the back seat.  I saw the neighbor come out of his garage and he saw us and started that whole, not doing anything act. 

I told the landlord earlier this week, but didn't really expect them to be able to do anything.  I thought maybe they could come up with some reason to go in the garage, but not really.  I have thought about calling the police, but they would know who called and I don't need them doing anything to the kids.  

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