I reported three separate people to the police today. It may seem like I’m revealing that number because I’m proud of it, but I hate the fact that it has to be me who does it. Where are all the squad cards stationed while I’m on the highway, jeopardizing my child’s safety by scribbling down the license plate of the Toyota Camry that just went by me doing 80 mph? I understand that people like me are usually mocked by others, declared hysterical with too much time on their hands. But the three people I reported today – the speeder, the suspicious loiterer and my mentally ill upstairs neighbor – have now been put on alert. And maybe next time, when they want to slam the gas pedal to the floor, give you a lascivious look or crank the Cubs game up to 11 when they know the person downstairs has a baby, they’ll remember this day and think again, deciding instead to act in the best interest of others. And then my actions will have had a direct impact on the happiness level of the world. I’ll just have to remember that when I run into my neighbor in the laundry room on Tuesday.
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- Karen the Personal Trainer
- Morton the Worm at the Usury Office
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