The Drug Dealer Next Door

If there were a toll to enter my neighbor’s rowhome- no doubt it would pull in more cash than any booth at the Holland Tunnel.
The flow of traffic in and out of the home could only compete with the local WalMart the day after Thanksgiving.
It’s unquestionably obvious.

But my neighbor isn’t.

“Dora” is a sixty-five year-old lady who fits the profile of the perfect neighbor. She says “hello” to everyone on the block. She smiles at children and has little bunnies in her windows. I’ve even seen her on the front step knitting.
It’s incredible.

When I first moved in, I innocently thought she was very popular. She’s lived in the home for ages, why wouldn’t she have tons of friends stopping by?
That was until I started really paying attention to her “friends.”

They’re probably the shadiest characters in the city. From dreadlocks to mohawks- teenagers to seniors. At all hours.
Knock. Knock. Knock.


“You outta turn her in,” said Judy. “I wouldn’t put up with it for a second.”
The question came up during cocktails at The Corner Bistro last night.
“I know,” I answered. “But she’s not causing any trouble. I haven’t seen any crime and I don’t want to butt in where I don’t belong.”
“It’s your street too. Call the cops.” She said matter-of-factly. Then she took a big swig of her Cosmopolitan.
“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

And I am.
Do I ‘live and let live’?
Or do I sick the PD on the woman and watch little “Dora” be cuffed and hauled off to jail?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Girls Night Out

Why is it that when I’m single my girlfriends aren’t? It also seems that when I'm taken- suddenly everyone’s single.
Could it be a conspiracy?
It definitely feels like it.

This leads me to Saturday.

“Hey, Lil- what’s up?” I asked. Lily’s new job made it very difficult to chat during the week.
“Nothing, what’s going on with you?” she replied.
“I’m in Georgetown. Peter and I are shopping and drinking. It’s awesome. The drunker I get- the better I shop.”
She laughed.
“What are you up to tonight?" Lily asked. "A few of the girls will be out in G’town if you wanna come by.”
“Oh. Sure. Absolutely.” My lack of enthusiasm was probably obvious.

It’s not that I didn’t want to go- it’s that I can’t believe I’m getting an invite the day of the girls night out. In the past, a girls night out was planned days- sometimes weeks- in advance. Was I being blackballed for having a boyfriend?

“Hey, sorry I didn’t mention it earlier,” Lily responded.
“Yeah, it’s no big deal.” I lied.
“Ya know,” I added. “I don’t always travel with Peter. We do detach ourselves from one another on rare occasions.”
“I know. So I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yeah, we’ll be there.”

And we were. In my eyes a girls night out with a little testosterone doesn’t hurt anyone.

Especially when I’ve noticed a major shortage.