The Untimely Demise Of My Neighbor’s Microwave.

Raccoon in Storage The Untimely Demise Of My Neighbors Microwave.

Most stories in my neighborhood don’t involve three feet of snow, rapid gunfire, and raccoons, but this one does.

This trifecta of causes and effects apparently guarantees The Grand Prize on America’s Funniest Home Videos in my neighbor’s mind, in fact her take-away from the entire event was her disappointment that no one had the foresight to grab a video camera. “We would have won for sure!” She told me over  Cranberry Juice, and Squashy-Raisin Bread at my kitchen table.   I’m still not sure where I stand on the probability that most of Americans are quite this comfortable with the discharge of automatic weaponry in row house kitchens, but I’m willing to keep an open mind.  You be the judge.

So, during the blizzard of 2010 Baltimore City was walloped with 3 feet of snow, in fact many places were walloped with 3 feet of snow.  Baltimore city is one of the places on the long list of those hit by the storm who’s aging roofs were not able to withstand the weight of all that snow, and it was just such a weak-willed roof that caused all the problems that followed.

My neighbor several doors down is named Daphne, and she was minding her own business the day after the snow stopped, and taking her morning shower when a corner of her roof crumbled, and sent part of the attic and it’s contents into the shower with her.  Contents that included quite a bit of drywall, and a family of raccoons.  Daphne, understandably startled and vulnerable, screamed and ran naked out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and out onto a back deck into the snow to escape the frightened raccoons.  Enter her husband.  Daphne’s husband and cousin were chatting it up in the kitchen when they heard the noise and subsequent screaming, and they immediately dashed up the stairs, handguns in hand, to handle the situation.  The two gentlemen, apparently deathly afraid of the raccoons, opened fire on the scrambling four-legged family, shooting several holes in the wall, and causing Daphne, still naked on the back deck, to crouch down and holler for a little caution, and a towel please.  (There may have been an F-bomb in there somewhere between the “towel” and the “please,” I’d like to note for complete accuracy)

The raccoons now panic stricken, erratic, and fleeing to the stairs scurried one by one down the banisters, and toward the stairs.  The husband grabbed a towel for Daphne, and tossed it to her on the deck, urging her to stay safe on the porch while they got rid of the raccoons, and left her there barefoot but now towel-clad, to fend for herself from stray bullets.

As Daphne described it to me, her husband and the cousin made it to the kitchen and rapidly opened fire, causing the raccoons to whip around the kitchen counters and wall cupboards in gravity-defying, Matrix-like style, before one of them was hit with a bullet.  Before the idea to open the kitchen door and let the beasts escape into the snow occurred, the brand new Microwave also took three bullets and began smoking in protest. A few dishes were also maimed by gunfire, and animal feces.

By this point a neighbor had inquired as to what the was going on, and had phoned animal control. An officer had been dispatched promptly, and was on his way over to handle the situation.  The officer arrived cautiously, and parked across the street in his truck.  The cousin saw the truck, hid his gun, and ran out a side door to explain to the officer what was going on.  The officer inquired as to whether he had been hearing gunfire when he pulled up, and stated that he wasn’t getting out of the truck until all the guns were put away.  The cousin insisted that no, no, there were no guns, everything was OK, and that it was safe to come in and catch any remaining raccoons.

The officer grabbed a pole and a bucket along with several cages, and proceeded to round up any remaining raccoons present in the house, while simultaneously avoiding a mostly-naked Daphne still on the back porch.  In rapid time the house was left only to it’s human occupants, and everyone was left to laugh and reminisce over the follies that had just occurred, and how if only they had a video camera to film the whole escapade, they would have won The Grand Prize on America’s Funniest Home Videos.

And that my friends is the true story of how Microwaves lose their battle against all that is evil and slow cooked in the Baltimore City.  R.I.P. Microwave!  Somewhere a Mr. Coffee is shedding a tear over his fallen comrade.


Photo Courtesy of: Will Scullin

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Comments

  1. Lori says:

    Very tongue-in-cheek!
    Yeah, I remember when she told us that story, and we were like “…yeah….that sounds perfectly normal…and full of hilarity to us…. o_O …”
    That neighborhood is crazy.
    So glad you are sharing what it’s like encountering the heart of Baltimore for a gardenista. :D

  2. Amy says:

    Hey Lori!

    Yup, everybody’s got a different threshold for what normal is, and it’s very different in Baltimore City than it was growing up in Columbia. I know I seem strange to my neighbors too, and I’ll get into that in other articles. Thanks for reading along!

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