31.07.03 - 11:32 PM - It's a jungle out there...

At what point do you tell yourself, Oop. There goes the neighbourhood? Granted, I do live under the expressway, so we're not exactly dealing with the Ritz Carlton here; still, I expect a certain degree of residential behaviour in a residential neighbourhood. As usual, I shall explain myself with an example:

Last night I awoke to the sound of an African elephant giving birth outside my window. At least that's what the sound, well, sounded like at 4:15 AM – I actually awoke and thought, Wow, an African elephant just dropped a calf right outside my window. Granted, I am not fully versed in the miracles of pachyderm childbirth, so it very well might have been an Asian elephant, but I digress.

The merry trumpeting was actually the sound of a road crew truck's brakes squealing to a stop. Not exactly grounds for a class-action law-suit, of course, so I forgave them their elephantine trespasses and turned the other cheek. That was when the Safari men started shooting at the new-born elephant with, well, elephant guns.

BANG! went the gun as I soiled my sheets and leapt out of bed. In my hypnopompic state (haven't used that word in a while!) I had horrifying images of Dumbo falling from the sky in a shower of flying-elephant innards. Thankfully they missed him, as was evidenced by the ensuing slew of shots.

Between volleys I chanced a peek out the window. The road crew were lobbing no-parking signs into the back of a truck. Must have been physics majors or something, because they seemed to be drawing great pleasure from observing the might parabolic trajectories these signs followed on their way to BANG.

So the question remains, are they trying to wake up the neighbourhood when they make this type of racket every few nights? Is it some form of vengeance for the fact that they, alone, must work the early morning hours (if only they knew...)? Or do they lack the mental processes necessary to link middle-of-the-night with sleeping people?

I know I'm not alone in finding this neighbourhood a little too rambunctious for my taste. Last night Politika and I watched insult shake hands with injury as a family of skunks high-tailed their way out of the 'hood. When the place stinks too much for the experts, there goes the neighbourhood.