One of the perks of living in an urban center is that you get to witness the occasional riot in your neighborhood. Last night was one such night for the Zugs when a party ended at the rental hall next door to us.
Around 11:30, just before SNL started, a stream of firecrackers went off in front of our house. Bryan, who was already in bed, put on his pants and went down to stare threateningly from the front porch. It worked, and four cars sped off as soon as he took his post. Fifteen minutes later when we were back in bed, we heard more firecrackers out the back door. When I went down to check it out and to call the police, I found hundreds of teenagers swarming the streets around my house.
Soon there was a police car in front of my house, one behind, and one on each of the two corners a block south, and they treated the scene like a riot – staying in their cars, not engaging, but slowly pushing and disbursing the crowd. The whole ordeal took about an hour, and then it was dark and quiet, like nothing had ever happened.
I must have the right personality for living in a neighborhood like this. Never at any moment did I feel afraid, though I knew there was the real possibility things could turn for the worse and a cop car could get turned over. I was irritated by the swarm of self-centeredness and the blatant disrespect. They hovered in the middle of the street, fighting, chatting between cars – all this happening directly in front of the cop as if he didn’t exist. And oh the teenage girl squealing – that was the worst part. It hurts my ears.
I love my house, and I love my neighborhood. Most of the time it is a pleasant neighborhood. Where else can you walk to the park and the library and the wine bar and the cupcake shop? This incident does not disillusion me. I am here to stay.
Want to see what happened? Watch this video…