I got up at 6:30am this morning to let Quincy out for a pee. Immediately upon opening my back door to my little patio and backyard, I noticed that something was amiss.
My stone piggy was no longer sitting on my patio table but was laying on the ground in the middle of the grass, along with the shovel that had been propped up next to my back door.
I was still half asleep as I stood there and tried to process why my things would be moved in such a way. In the back of my mind I could also smell propane but I couldn't quite get the brain in gear to know why.
Just then a neighbor calls out to me and says, "There was a guy in your yard about a half hour ago. You might want to check your BBQ because he was trying to turn it on."
I turn to look at the BBQ and indeed, the propane had been cranked on full blast - but there is no flame! So propane had been flooding out of my BBQ for over a half an hour. Yes, I realized then that the smell of propane was overwhelming (I'm awake now!!) So I rush over to shut it off and to my great disgust, I find.... a big chunk of dog shit - YES, DOG SHIT sitting on the side of the BBQ.
I called out to the neighbor and told her that the gas has been on full blast and that there is dog shit on the BBQ. She was horrified (not as horrified as me, having to find it). I asked her what the guy looked like (had Steve been sleep walking?) and she said he was in his early 20's and was and told me he was "cracked out" (Ok, definitely not Steve). She told me she tried to call the cops but he suddenly ran away.
Fucking crack heads!!!
We've had problems with crackheads before - Steve chased a couple out of the townhouse complex a couple years ago when he caught them smoking crack and putting on makeup (hooker?) at the bottom of our parking garage stairs just outside of our yard. And every once in a while we see them roaming around the street outside the complex. And of course, our vehicles have both been broken into.
I called Steve to tell him. He said that when he was getting ready for work he thought he heard something in the back yard but didn't think anything of it - we get plenty of stray cats and raccoons coming through the yard all the time. And of course our blinds were closed so he couldn't see out.
I told him about the dog shit on the BBQ and he says, "Wow. That's what happens when you're a crackhead, you get really hungry. You'll eat anything."
Steve apparently thinks that the cracker was going to BBQ the dog shit and eat it?
How badly I wish that Steve had opened that back door when he heard the noise out there. Maybe the neighbor would have been making a call to the ambulance for the crackhead and not the police.
Seriously, get me the fuck out of here.
(Police showed up about a half hour later. Apparently another neighbor called the cops. Perhaps he visited someone else's yard as well as mine? They're still outside, an hour and a half later - sitting in the cruiser on the street. Sadly, I don't see anyone in the back seat.)