So… I shoulda known.
I mean… really. The first time someone scared me to pieces by knocking loudly on my front door late at night, I froze. Wondered what that was about. Didn’t answer. Considered convenient weapons.
And then… it just kept happening. Not a lot. But too much.
Late at night on weekends. Loud knocking.
Often, there wasn’t knocking, but I had the really icky feeling that someone was outside, THINKING about knocking. (Yes, that’s a totally legit Icky Feeling. The Someone Is Thinking About Knocking Icky Feeling. If you haven’t had it, then you don’t know. But trust me. It’s often reinforced by normally apathetic dogs looking at the door expectantly EXACTLY when you have that feeling. Total dog confirmation stuff.)
Then there was New Year’s Eve. And there was traffic at my doorstep. Traffic, asking for Jose.
And that’s how you FINALLY realize that you have moved into a drug dealer’s old house and there ARE lots of potential customers hanging around, watching, scoping, lurking, and sometimes knocking. Men, older than me, looking all desperate and skittish. Not exactly the sort of crowd you want constantly beating a path to your front door when you’re just trying to be thoroughly left alone to safely raise your kids.
My dad suggested I get a gun.
My neighbor confirmed my suspicions about the previous tenants and suggested she just “intercept” all of them for me.
Uh…? No. Thank you, but maybe that’s what we call a BAD idea, sweet little mama of two who need you to live and breathe. You just leave the bad guys alone, sweetie. (i just love her.)
I decided this could at least be HELPED by hot pink sticky notes. Two tiny hot pink sticky notes that now read: NO DRUGS HERE. JOSE MOVED. I thought SHORT words might be helpful, given the demographic.
The hot pink notes are right below my square wreath that I haven’t yet removed. Real festive. No house says, “Merry Christmas and look elsewhere for drugs” more clearly than this one.
It’s working. I know, because I got the Icky Feeling of someone lurking on the porch earlier – confirmed by one cat AND one dog – and I can only assume they read the hot pink sticky notes and left.
Ah, the power of the written word.