things you should know before calling the cops on your jag off neighbors

So. There is this house. It's backyard faces my bedroom windows. It's a little confusing how that works because there's a corner and some voodoo magic and I am not going to spend twenty minutes trying to explain it to you guys because words are hard, but pretty much you just need to accept the premise that I can see completely into their back yard. I can see so well I don't even need the binoculars. Not that I would use them anyway to spy on people. Because I am not a creep. I just happen to have the binoculars for....bird watching. Which I don't do. Anyway. I am getting a little off track here. So, we are close to these guys.

see how natural I look? Just glancing around the neighborhood in the normal way  nuns do

Have I ever met them, you ask? Uh, no. We spend way too much time doing whatevertheheckwewant instead of knocking the doors of our mystery neighbors. We know one neighbor (our landlord) and then another neighbor (they were selling girl scout cookies).

So one night (which it is important to know it was a MONDAY) I got up at like 2 AM because Reese needed a bottle. I am awesome at not waking up fully when I get her a bottle. Dave always finds the lid to the formula in weird places. So I get her what she needs and I crawl back into bed. And then I hear it. Laughter. Ugh. If there's one thing I hate, ESPECIALLY in the middle of the night, it's laughter. But I deal with it. And then there's more. And it's escalating. Dave wakes up too. For some reason he's not a complete idiot in the middle of the night like me, so his brain could actually make out the words they were saying. According to him they were yelling about balls and cups. Awe-some. Which explains why they kept getting louder and LOUDER. Finally, I was done with it. This jubilee must be crushed. So here, my friends, is a guide to calling the cops on your neighbors.

1. Uh, you should probably know the address before you call. So, here's how my conversation with dispatch went:
 "Hi there. I am not fully awake. I would like to be less awake but there are some nerf herder neighbors  that won't shut up. And it's late. And I hate them."
"Okay ma'am. What is your name?"
"Lord Voldemort." (okay, I didn't say that. I said my real name. But I wish I had said that).
"Alright, and do you know if any drugs or alcohol are being used there?"
"How am I supposed to know? I am not even supposed to be awake!"
"Okay, and can you tell me the address of the home?"
"Uh, I don't have the exact address. But it's on the north side of B street. I mean, it's on green street, but north of B street. I mean, we're pretty close to an intersection. Of white street and B street. So I guess it's on the west side of B street and the house itself is on the south side of green street. Does that make sense?"
"Not really, but I'll have an officer check it out."

After the phone call, I knew that party would never end unless I got some cold hard facts. So I used the magic of google to stalk my neighbors and get their address. Kinda freaky, google. Anyway, so I called dispatch back. Basically I said, "Hey three minutes ago I called to shut down a party and ruin some lives. But three minutes ago I was dumb and now I am smart and now I have the address of the house." And I gave it to them. After those phone calls they probably thought for sure that there were drugs and alcohol involved. In my brain. So, step one, know the address.

2. You probably shouldn't tell them who you are. I did. I am dumb. You are smart. Dave asked me if I told them my name. I was like, "ofcourseIdidDeanfromdispatchwassonice." And then Dave told me that if the cops do indeed go shut down the party and the party-goers inquire of the constables who reported them, it is their obligation to tell. I am not sure if that is true or not (any law hotties here?). But just in case it is, don't tell Dean your name. You don't want some crazy party animal to murder you for being lame and sleeping at night instead of attending their party. If you give a fake name, make it scary like Lord Voldemort. Uh, pretty much no one wants to mess with an evil wizard.

3. Make sure you wake yourself up to watch the results of your actions. Get an energy shot. Do a lap. Whatever. You won't want to miss this. Bonus tip: be sneaky about this. As in don't leave your windows gaping open and lights on. Party people may catch on to you.

4. Only feel a smidgen of guilt for ruining peoples'nights. Seriously. Just the teeniest bit. It would be better if you could stifle all guilt all together. It turns out the house I reported on was a party house for underage drinkers. So you know what I am? A HERO. A party-stopping sleep-deprived hero. Also, I got to see people jump over fences while running away. If that doesn't make for good talk over or-derves (shut up. I know it's not spelled like that) I don't know what does.

5. You probably shouldn't put it on your facebook or bloggity blog, especially if you violated rule number two. Here I am. Doing both. Fortunately for me, drunk teenagers make very poor investigators.

And that, my friends, is how to be the best dang party-stopping hero this town will ever see. Don't be discouraged if you don't have a natural knack for it like I do. Practice makes perfect.