So I believe I’ve discussed previously our neighbors, the Dietz. They’re nice enough people, but perhaps a little too involved in everyone else’s business. So, at 9:00 p.m. this evening while watching a movie, we see Mr. Dietz walk up to the house. Immediately, we are filled with nerves. Sometimes Cous Cous oversteps her boundaries and pees in their yard. We try not to let her, but sometimes she’s so fast, we don’t catch her before the stream comes. So we’re positive we’re about to get an earful about the unfortunate bare grass spots.
But instead, Mr. Dietz was asking if we were responsible for a black car parked “in his yard.” By “in his yard,” he meant exactly 3 inches over the sidewalk. We, in fact, were not responsible for the vehicle, but knew that our other neighbor’s daughter frequently had friends over and it was probably one of their cars. Which is what we said. To which Mr. Dietz screeched howler-monkey style “it’s parked on my sprinkler!”
This seemed impossible! How would someone not know they parked on a sprinkler? Well, apparently they have underground sprinklers, which Scott pointed out after Mr. Dietz exited, is totally against the rules of our association because we don’t actually own the first 6 inches of our yard.
Regardless, we ended it with him saying we didn’t know who had the car, but that if it was the daughter’s friend, they’d probably move it before dawn.
Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for Mr. Dietz, because an hour later we saw flashing red and blue. And sure enough, there was Mr. and Mrs. Dietz chatting with local law enforcement. One of the cops was standing in the yard and searching with his flashlight for the VIN. A half hour later, a tow truck came along and bye-bye vehicle.
Around midnight, Scott took out Cous Cous for a walk and as they were going around the driveway, the cop car pulled up to the driveway and a cop shouted to Scott. He walked over and the cop asked if he knew anything about the black car that was parked next door. Scott said he didn’t, and the cop advised that if the owner came, they should call the station and that Scott shouldn’t talk to him or her about what happened.
Pregnant as I was, I was not able to stay up any later, but Scott was and so could vouch for the fact that around 2 a.m., the car’s owner came and threw a complete hissy fit. 18-year-old girl screeches of “Where the @#$@ is my car??!!” filled the air. And then Scott began to worry that they would think it was us, as the car was between our yard and the Dietz’.
So, the next day under the auspices of taking the dog out, Scott grilled Mrs. Dietz about what happened. Apparently, the owner of the car had failed to register the vehicle and so the VIN was still registered to a dealer. She disingenuously said to Scott: “I feel really bad we had to tow it, but you can’t just go ruining yards.” Scott stole a glance and not a blade of glass was out of place from the car.
We never did find out if they figured out who towed the car, but the pile of presents we got when the baby came leads me to believe they knew it wasn’t us. But still I wonder sometimes if they do know, when the retaliation will hit. The cars are ALWAYS on the other side of the road and now when we have people over, we’re sure to tell them not to park near the yard.