Last night, it was a pounding on my door about 1 am. The first pound I thought I dreamed. Then I heard it again, that cops/emergency/process-server sort of pounding. I stumble to the door, thinking "Now what?" because I'm already sure it has something to do with next door. On the doorstep is an immaculately groomed woman in what I think of as "lady lawyer" garb. You know, silk blouse, crisp immaculately-tailored gray flannel suit (pants, not skirt), etc. She looks confused. "Oh, I must have the wrong house. I'm looking for Michelle." "Next door," I say, pointing. "She's got my boyfriend with her." Gee, thanks for sharing... I close the door and go back to bed.
There is pounding and cursing next door, now. But I don't think Michelle was home, as the back porch light was on, and that's usually on when she's gone. Eventually, all was quiet again. I don't think I want to know.