Recently my neighborhood has been terrorized by a peeping Tom and for weeks the city police and sheriff’s department have been trying to catch this elusive creature, but our peeper seems to be crafter than the cat that leaves foot prints on your car in the middle of the night. Sort of ironic considering both the sheriff and police stations are only about half a mile away.
I don’t know why he would pick this neighborhood as it consisted mainly of D.C. commuters. I felt rather safe knowing that I was surrounded by neighbors that worked for the FBI, CIA and the prison system, plus my own ability to pump a shot gun with one hand while pressing the talk button on my intercom system.
Late one evening I was startled by the gaggle of cop cars plowing into the neighborhood with their lights and sirens blaring. Out my back window I could see my neighbor Mr. CIA running out his front door with his gun still strapped on him from work. He dashed around to the front of his neighbor house where I could see our ninja peeper just jumping over the four foot fence. The police all jumped out of their cars and rushed to get through the fence to catch their assailant, which at this point would not seem to be very hard as our genius of a peeper managed to fall into the 6 foot deep hole the pool man just dug earlier that day and now lay splayed at the bottom with a broken leg. All I can say is that our peeping Tom was very luck the pool man hit solid rock at 6 feet because the plans called for a 10 foot hole to accommodate a tall diving board.