Frank,
My God man.
It was 3:00AM, and my woman and I awoke near-simulataneously to eerily bright lights shining through our every drawn blind, and our hearts momentarily raced as we attempted, in our semi-conscious states, to ascertain the origin of the roaring sounds outside of our home. My instincts led me to four immediate conclusions:
1. I am dreaming.
2. The sequel to Red Dawn is upon us, and it is happening right here, right now on Hall Street.
3. Chevy Chase and Dan Aykroyd are attempting to launch an ICBM directly in front of my house.
4. E.T.’s spacecraft is landing in my driveway.
But all of these would prove little more than conjecture as I parted the blinds to see a municipal vacuum truck diligently cleaning the debris from the street. We settled back into bed, lulled to slumber by the sound of roaring diesel-powered suction. And the vehicle’s piercing intermittent backup warning signal.
Frank, I know it’s a job that’s gotta be done, but not at 3:00AM. Seriously – who thought this was the best possible option? THEY’RE AN IDIOT. I’m exhausted. And my street doesn’t even look that good.
Hey, I’m all for getting an early start on the day, but this is totally insane.
Seriously, I’m dragging my you-know-what today at my job in a haze because of that nuclear reactor on wheels.
Please do not do that to us again.
chasing 1:20 