Trash day in Yorba Linda

Too bad the trash didn’t get picked-up on Memorial Day. I might have gotten some decent sleep. By “trash” I mean my neighbors. There seems to be three different types of people that live in our condo complex. Young families saving-up to buy something larger, old retired people who have lived there forever, and my POS (Piece Of Sh*t) neighbor. At midnight I went to the bathroom and heard him and his girlfriend talking and cussing in the back yard. No big deal. Then at 3:20 in the morning I heard him screaming, “Get away from the baby” repeatedly, while she was crying. Then I hear him on the phone with 911 saying the baby won’t wake-up and it’s not breathing.

Minutes later the police show-up and say “Anthony, what wrong with your kid”. That’s right, the police have been over there so many times, they know their names without even asking. The baby (2 months old) seemed to be okay, because everyone stopped talking about it and called off the ambulance. After talking to him outside and her inside, they decided to give each of them a breathalyzer. What a surprise. I was shocked (not really) when he blew a 0.19. I own a breathalyzer and when I had a contest to see who could blow the highest number, the most I ever got was a 0.14. I was loaded, but also was not watching children at the time.

It sounds like they started fighting over the baby, he grabbed it, she was trying to get it away from him and he was holding the baby so tight it passed out. I think the girlfriend’s parents ended-up coming over to get their daughter and grandchild. Vanessa and I were hoping Child Services would be called and they would goto jail. Oh well. I finally got back to sleep at 5:00 am. Just enough to get 7 more minutes of sleep before the alarm went off.

Usually the police are over there for domestic violence or because his other daughter’s mother comes around to harass the current girlfriend. When will it end? As a side note, I think he had something to do with our cat’s disappearance. Just a feeling I get.

The rest of the weekend was good. I moved some stuff from my dad’s to our garage, helped my neighbor (not the same one) pull the engine out of his Charger (grunt, grunt), went to a BBQ in Newport Beach (carne asada and bikini’s), and brushed-up on my interviewing skills.