I could hear the artificial laughter through my garage walls. Then her voice cut through the chatter like fingernails on glass. Oh, that's my new Camaro. Just bought it from a classic car dealer in Phoenix.
45,000 but totally worth it. They're shipping it next week. My socket wrench clattered to the concrete floor. She was showing people photos on her phone.
Photos of a car identical to mine, basking in their impressed coos like she'd personally invented the combustion engine. That afternoon, needing brake fluid, I fired up my baby and backed out slowly. The 350s rumble echoed off the houses like mechanical thunder, deep and primal and absolutely gorgeous. When I returned an hour later, Brenda stood in her driveway like a statue of suburban rage, arms crossed, face flushed, staring at my car with the intensity of a hawk watching a field mouse.
I nodded politely. She didn't respond, just kept boring holes through my Camaro with those predator eyes. That night, I'm betting she spent hours online building her delusion brick by digital brick, convincing herself that somehow someway I'd stolen her imaginary purchase. By morning, she'd transformed from annoying neighbor into something far more dangerous, a Karen with a cause.
When two patrol cars screeched into my driveway with full light show blazing, I knew my peaceful Saturday evening was officially screwed. Four officers poured out like they were responding to an armed bank robbery, which according to Brenda's Academy Award-worthy 911 performance, they were. Officer Rodriguez, a 20-year veteran with kind eyes and the patient demeanor of someone who'd seen every flavor of neighborhood crazy, approached with his hand resting casually on his belt. His partner, a younger guy named Morgan, who looked like he bench pressed squad cars for cardio, flanked him with notebook ready. "Evening, sir, we received a report about a stolen vehicle at this address. " The sheer absurdity hit me like a brick to the forehead. Stolen vehicle officer. This is my car in my garage at my house.