Friday, July 06, 2007

After Midnight Walkies

One gets to see all sorts of interesting things when going for walkies after midnight. We prefer the after-midnight - the temperature is cooler, it's quieter, the air seems fresher and the occasional person encountered from afar is generally more interesting.

Tonight, for example - four houses north, on the other side of the street. I head out the door with Hazel and there are headlights, stationary. It's about 00:30. The car makes it's way past us and turns onto the main street... As we walk past the spot we hear some talking. At the head of the driveway across from us is a girl (woman?) crumpled on the concrete and she's just puked - there's a puddle glistening in the moonlight beneath her chin. What appears to be her mother is saying, "Don't worry about it and come inside. I don't want you to get your hands in it." The crumpled person mumbles something about being sorry and then retches again. Hazel just stands and stares - she's annoyed at the unseemliness of the spectacle. From the silhouettes we assume that this is either either a teen aged daughter or one of college age - she's wearing a sweatshirt and jeans... Out of school on summer break and perhaps catching up with some chums... who drop her off on the curb in a debased state of drunkenness. I think to say something just to reassure Hazel, who is standing still and staring - ears pricked up, eyebrows switching back and forth in an up and down fashion - bewildered by the behaviour - but I don't... Best not embarrass the neighbours more than need be (I've never talked to them, nor have I, if seldom, ever actually seen them) - what if it's a medical condition and she was out for a wholesome, stimulating game of Scrabble? Perhaps she's just had an epileptic fit?... We walk off into the night. There's a cat somewhere down the street that needs motivation to move off the sidewalk.

Some months ago, again with Hazel, we rounded the corner from our block onto a slightly larger street. A newly refurbished apartment building is across - just done up in anticipation of higher rental rates during this time of shortage in suitable living space. Just having done a bit of sniffing, we are both startled by the call of "JOHNNY! Johnny, I RUV YOU!" Indeed, a woman is in the street and shouting this. Is it inebriation? Is it the dementia of love sickness? Who knows - but our pleasant walk has been disturbed by screams for Johnny... Who the hell is this Johnny? Why, if indeed he is home does he not be a responsible citizen and come out and face this woman and spare the rest of his neighbours the sounds of her shrieks? Loud shrieks followed by what appears to be Korean mumbling... The only intelligible parts being, "JOHNNY! Johnny, I RUV YOU!"... A woman scorned and insulted is not a pleasant thing after midnight. On our way back we notice that there's now a man leaning against a car trying to calm the woman. He wears a very nice suit and is well manicured - something reminiscent of a John Woo film. He is clearly not Johnny as the woman still looks up periodically and screams for Johnny. Hazel looks across the street and then back at me - all I can do is shrug my shoulders and whisper to her, "crazy people". We round the corner, back to the peace of our own block.

Klaus is much more preoccupied with his sniffing duties - nose to the ground, cataloging what might have traversed through the neighbourhood. When we come upon strangers wandering the night, he gives them the EYE... Stares over his shoulder at them till he is assured that they are walking away. Then, with ease and nonchalance, he turns back to what he was previously doing and I can almost hear him say, "I thought not. Punk ass bitch..."

All in all, things are pretty quiet at night and it's calm. Being in a neighbourhood where there are lot of neighbours with dogs, who like to walk them, as we've found out while walking during the day - we do not much appreciate being barked at by other's dogs, especially when we are minding our own business. Generally the behaviour of others is undignified.

No comments: