The people in your neighbourhood

I just moved onto a new street and the local wisdom is that the people who across the street from me are drug dealers. There seem to be a lot of expensive trucks and motorcycles that come and go on a frequent basis, but having bad taste doesn't necessarily incriminate a person. I think it's more likely that that rather than drug dealers, they're simply drug users. However, two weeks ago, they advertised a garage sale at their house, but when Saturday morning came, there was nary a fondue pot to be found. This week, they've listed another garage sale, so I now hold the theory is that the garage sale ad is really an encoded advertisement for a new shipment of drugs. They won't be able to keep up this sham very long because dedicated garage sale shoppers are a force to be reckoned with, and if they do a drive-by more than twice looking for a cut-rate crimping iron, they're liable to take matters into their own hands.

Yes, life in a small town really is this interesting. Today I learned through my staff weekly newsletter that my neighbours are splitting up. Because I live in a small town, I happen to live next door to a woman who works in my department and in the "welcomes and farewells" section, there was a farewell to my neighbour, who is moving back down south. I promptly tapped myself into the departmental grapevine and got the low-down on their short-lived romance. It really saved me the effort of having to befriend her, go out to lunch, get her relationship story, then see her off back to the big city. I'm all about efficiency.

More news from the suburbs next week, when I'll be reporting on the local federal PC candidate's fundraising barbecue. Our government: funded by your weenies.