So I drove out of my driveway, thinking the noise was around the corner from my house, only to find that it's my neighbor's lawn service, a one-man show, about three doors down the street. The one and only time I spoke with this particular neighbor, she asked me if I thought Chester was "fat enough." Friendly! So I stopped the car and had a conversation with Mower-Man that went like this:
"Excuse me," I said. "Isn't it a little late to be mowing the lawn? I live down the block and my child is trying to sleep."I look forward to seeing the crooked mower lines and missed rows of growing grass tomorrow morning when I'm walking Chester. And maybe Chester will choose this neighbor's lawn as his WC tomorrow? Hmm...
The mower looked at his watch and shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, I'm almost done," he said. There was nothing apologetic to be heard.
"Can you really see anything right now?" I asked, pointing to the stars in the sky, in utter disbelief I'm asking this question at 8:30 PM.
"Yes," the phuquing idiot said, holding his inane gas-guzzling blower tool. What the hell he was blowing around at this time of night, I'll never know. He'll never know either, being that it's DARK.
"Well, in the future can you please not mow this late at night?" Note the emphasis on the word night. "My child goes to sleep now, and this is very disturbing."
"I guess," the phuquing idiot said.
I thanked him, like the gentleman I am, and I drove the few feet home to my house.