Day 296-- Pupusas and cop cars, or, you know, Wednesday.

You know it's a good evening when it begins with pupusas and ends in cop cars.

As I've written before, I love our local farmers market every Wednesday and purposely worked a 7am shift to make it in time.  I really do need to go on a shopping spree there at least once, for usually the only thing I buy there is dinner, and it would be nice to finally support a vendor's jams or pesto, or fresh breads, or watercolor prints.

My boyfriend met me there and I treated us to a Mexican food vendor with a long line and 1 guy taking orders and 1 woman with oily hands handling the dough and making the pupusas on a long flat grill on the sidewalk. I've never had  pupusas before, but the smell was so enchanting that I instantly regretted that my latin food group consists of nothing but standard nachos/burritos/and tacos.  I ordered a carnita pupusa with a coke (which came in a legit Coca cola bottle with real sugar), and he ordered a carne asada burrito. We sat in the dark straw chairs near the tables and a baby stroller but no one came to kick us out of "their spot" as we greedily ate the delicious fried bread and salts.  

Back at his house and I was reading Physics in the 18th Century (I'm a nerd) drinking tea as he was reading various Google news articles about the election and economy ect  when we heard several crashes, shouts, and the worst squeal of metal on tires.

The whole street was outside--along with the reckless cop car who raced down the street like it was 405 instead of a neighborhood.  As the crowd got bigger so did the word of mouth of what had transpired.  Our alcoholic neighbor in the apartment next door was driving drunk and as he turn down his/our street he hit 5-6 cars before a group of people who were yelling at him to stop opened the car door and pulled his keys out.  

Luckily no one was hurt but the shouting and video-taping on phones and the general mob that happens after such an event were still raging long after the fact.

It was still the hot story this morning as I sat in the sun on the porch outside munching on nachos as the neighbors and friends re-enacted the whole thing and spewing out the groupthink consensus (though highly accurate) that he had it coming, that he's an asshole, and you shouldn't drive drunk.  His girlfriend/wife who appears to be on some sort of drug as well keeps defending him and arguing with people that he has a heart problem.  That may be true, but the smell of booze and his behavior and history and the police arresting him rather than taking him to a hospital kinda refutes her claim that he wasn't his fault.  We may not know the whole story, but the general hype and news around these parts is that the drunk had it coming and thank God no one was hurt, the asshole.

And then the neighbors got their surfboards and their dogs and life is normal again.  Just an average crazy Wednesday night and Thursday morning at the beach, haha.