And, this is the rest of the story. So, after the drunk man named Richard tried to forcefully (yet unsuccessfully) enter my home, I wondered if I'd ever see him again. It's not like I wanted him to come back any time soon, but I feared he might just haunt my neighborhood for a while.
As fate would have it, Richard reared his ugly head again. Well when I saw him again the next day, he was actually reclined, head and all. I came home from work and saw, to my surprise, the neighbor who lives to the left of me and a police officer standing out in the middle of the street. They moved aside as I pulled in my driveway. I went over to see what was going on. I had a slight inkling they might be there because of my new acquaintance. Sure enough, the police officer explained that there was a man on the deck of the neighbor who lives to the right. Not only was Richard on the deck, he was passed out cold on the deck. The officer asked if I knew "that man" or if I knew whether or not he was staying with the neighbors next door. My left-hand neighbor said he had seen the man stumbling around in their yard. "Nope, I don't know him. And, I don't know if he's theirs," I said pointing over there. "But, I've seen him wandering around the neighborhood before." "Well," the officer said, "we'll have to wait for your neighbor to get home before we can do anything.
We all stood waiting for my neighbor to come home. God, why didn't I just call the cops yesterday? Do I tell them what really happened? Do I just keep my mouth shut? At least Richard hadn't hurt anyone. Or had he? Nahh, he's just a drunk guy who probably has no home right now. At the same time, I was kind of relieved. Richard would now be taken care of. Or so I hoped.
My neighbor came home and gave us all a questioning look. "Ma'am, there is a man passed out drunk on your deck. Do you know this man or is he staying with you?" the officer asked. She looked like a bee had just stung her nose. Then she just looked plain amused. "No. Oh wow, I'm surprised the dogs didn't go crazy!"
"Alright, I'll have him removed. It's gonna take some help; he's kinda a big guy. I'll radio it in." The left-hand neighbor and I went back to our respective homes. I ended up making a few calls. "You won't believe what's going on." As a country dweller who'd moved to the city, I felt so urban all of sudden. My first almost-home invasion. My first time talking to the police because of my almost home invader now squatting his drunk ass on my neighbor's deck. I get oddly celebratory about strange firsts.
"You cannot tell your parents! Your mom'll freak!" my friend Brandon said. True. So, I let my tongue be silent on Richard, even though I usually like to confess such oddities of personal experience to my inner circle. I finally did tell my parents years later after the freshness of it had worn off.
After leaving everything to the hands of the capable cop, I took a long nap. When I woke up later and made my way to the bathroom, I heard the rhythmic pinging of a diesel engine outside my house. Peaking through my bathroom blinds, I beheld a fire engine with a passel of firefighters all there to remove a drunk man still obviously passed out. Relieved, I went back into the quietude of my home. After this Richard experience, I now peak through my door's window anytime there is a knock. Luckily, I've never seen Richard again, but there's plenty of pesky sales people. And, now I'm more prone to call the police if I see or hear someone or something who might need to be tended to.
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