Call the COPS~

I had no way of knowing.

We had just arrived at our oceanside beach home rental, I needed to get away in the worst of ways-I was on the deck. Headphones donned, I sat down and sang along to Stabbing Westward.

He came out of nowhere, and I mean thin air.

“You’re CURSING, you’re CURSING…you’re CURSING, lady.”

What in the actual fuck, my thought cloud read.

He had crossed the street and was yelling from the sidewalk below. I hesitated not one split second before I was down the stairs and in his face. An argument ensued.

As I stepped out of the shower I heard the sirens, surely not me, couldn’t be.

Without so much as a howdy do I had two Jersey State cops in my face and demanding answers. I calmly explained the situation, and seemingly satisfied the cops left the property.

Irritated with my husband’s insistence that the man who’d caused mayhem on my first day of reprieve was, in fact, intellectually disabled-I yelled from the bathroom.

Within seconds the keystone cops had returned. This time no knock, just ass barreled into our house and demanded to know if I was okay.

“Do you want us to take your blood pressure?,” the short female inquired.

I’d had it, I was incredulous. Feeling as if I had entered Bizarro World I shot back-

Get the FUCK out of my home.

“But, your blood pressure,” she stammered.

I took a step forward, zero fucks left to give.

I know my rights, get the FUCK off of this property.

They left, but not before having my husband sign a release that he did not want me charged with domestic battery.

Apparently, you can’t yell at your husband in the state of New Jersey.

I am truly the Lord of the Idiot Fringe.

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