The police have been to the Skunk House four times since December. (4/8/00 5 time now!) This is something of a record for anywhere I've ever lived. Even the quarter at the research forest with hordes of alcohol fueled forestry students and bonfires almost nightly, we didn't get this much attention from the long arm of the law.

Two of these visits occurred on the same night in December. Aaron, Brook, and Leila had a little misunderstanding. This pretty much ended with Aaron pounding on Brook's door and lanunching a gallon of water down the stairs at it. No one was hurt. No one was even hit. But later that night Brook called the Dover Police.

Aaron was warned to stay in his room for the rest of the night and sleep it off. A couple of hours later Aaron went downstairs to have a cigarette on the porch. Brook called the cops again. They woke Aaron up so he could come down for a night of protective custody.

On March 19, Paul came home to find Bober (the narc) parked in his space again. Paul had been drinking some before hand (He once refered to his younger sister as his liver donor.) and wasn't pleased to find Bober in his space again. He argued through Bober's door for about half an hour, reasoning that "since you're already awake, there's no better time to move your car." After half an hour of knocking, talking, and warning Bober that he didn't want to make an "en-nmy" of Paul, Paul gave up and went away. Since this was about 2 in the morning, I figured there wasn't a fight in the making and went back to bed. Paul, however, went downstairs and shat on Bober's windshield.

The following morning, Bober saw the footprints on his hood, but didn't notice the feces. It had to be pointed out to him. (Imagine... "But wait, there's more!") At this point, Bober (the narc) called Carole, who called the police. After talking to Bober, Bill and Carole, the Officer went upstairs to talk to Paul. The Officer asked, "Do you know why I'm here?" To which Paul responded, "I think so. Is it because I defecated on his car?" Evidently the Officer walked down the stairs shaking his head in amazement that Paul had admitted it. The final resolution was a fine for criminal mischief and Paul had to pay Bober for cleaning his car. I gave Paul $10, 'cause that kid needs to get shit on more.

On March 24th we had our next police visit. We'd had the Fire Marshal here early in the day to do an inspection. He showed up ready to demand corrections from Carole, as he'd told her last year that the house couldn't be a rooming house without major corrections. Carole was supposed to show up, but evidently chose not to. After the Fire Marshal left, we saw a new maroon Volvo in the driveway, and if any of us could afford a car that nice, we'd live in the car instead of here. So we took down the tag number as it drove away. Bill jumped in his Batmobile and drove up to Carole's house to see if the car was there. It was, and the driver was discussing something with Carole in the yard. When they saw Bill start to make a U-turn they began to move towards the door, and when Bill asked why they were trespassing in our driveway they ran into the house. Later that day a plainclothes officer in a private vehicle arrived at our house and served Bill with a stalking warning.

The stalking warning seems to be some level of control on Bill's behavior below that of a restraining order, that doesn't actually provide much protection for the stalkee. This is the sort of thing that only happens in New Hampshire. You can read the text of the stalking warning on our documents page.

Carole was at the house on April 8, 2000, and we've called the cops again. The first call was a message to Officer Lepkowski to tell him that Carole had come here unescorted in spite of the stalking car clearly being parked at the end of the driveway. The second call was Aaron's request to have someone come out and help us prevent Carole from coming back without prior notice. Although the officer ultimately couldn't help us with what we wanted, he explained our situation and options well, and did a lot to defuse the tension in the house that night. With some jokes and story telling he brought the level of stress down a lot. Monday we'll be going to the court house for a restraining order.

All text Copyright Brendan Impson 1999 unless otherwise noted. Images are copyrighted by either myself or Bill. If you want to use any of this junk, please contact me at brendan@bit-net.com