Group Grope

Tales From The 'Hood

There are times I wish my bedroom window did not face the street.

Sometime in the wee hours last night, I was awakened by some sort of teenage commotion outside. I managed to focus on the clock. Ye Gods... 3:15 AM. What in the world induces teenage squealing at that hour?

Since the neighbor across the street uses a 1,000,000 candlepower front porch light, it wasn't hard to see who the culprits were. The youngest girl from Maison Hillbilleé next door was jumping up and down out in the circle with the girl from across the street. They were either texting or talking on a cell phone, you could see the light from the screen being waved about like a glowstick at a rave.

Just as I'm drifting off to sleep, the harsh glare from the porch light flickers several times as people walk in front of it. More kids are arriving. Oh, joy. It's not that I mind them being out there so much, it's just that as a former teenager, I know that Being Out At 3 AM & Doing Stupid Shit goes together like pizza and beer. Besides, they're only 20 feet from my truck.

I doze off, waking up an hour or so later when Betsy Cat stomps her way down my body to head for the litterbox. Not a bad idea, cat...

On the way back from the can, I look out the window, and the teenybopper parade is still out there, only now they're all sitting in a circle giving each other back rubs. Ah, Young Lust. I remember it well... When you can't ask her for a hand job, at least ask her for a back rub.

I was tempted for one brief moment to call Johnny Law and complain about a teenage orgy out in the cul de sac, but they were being quiet, and as long as they weren't using my truck for a Love Wagon, I had no gripe.

So, it's 3 AM. Do you know where YOUR children are? Are you sure??