“No, we have to call the cops. There’s a HOLE in our house!”

And the house violently shook  for a mere second…that can only mean one thing, right? But wait, Providence doesn’t get earth quakes. So what else could it be? “Is everyone ok?” I hear from the hallway. A chorus of “Yeahs” fills the air. So if we’re all ok, then…”Oh my gosh, a CAR hit our HOUSE!” The four of us that were home grabbed shoes and coats and ran outside to see the damage.

Image: A shiny, red car with the words ‘dollar-a-day rental’ on the rear driver-side window. No license plates. A very crunched front side. Three girls who don’t really speak English. They just moved here from China apparently; two of them in pajamas, the other in very short shorts and high heels (yeah, we don’t really know what to make of that either).

We ring up our friends, The Prov. Police (much to the girls’ dismay as they asked us not to just yet), and they arrive minutes later. To make a long story short (too late!)…one by one they all arrived (Clue reference, anybody?).  A few squads plus 2 firetrucks and an ambulance. You know, just in case. So there we were, standing outside attempting to be serious and look concerned about the situation (yeah, that actually happened…we couldn’t help but make mildly scandalous, not quite PC jokes…) freezing our dupas off (yup, I just said dupa, deal with it) whilst trying to figure out what to do, seeing as our landlord was not being very cooperative.

Clearly these girls didn’t think the fire hydrant was worth taking out, so they went straight for the house instead. The fire hydrant came of out this completely unscathed. The car hit the brick part of the house and made a basketball hoop-sized hole in which you could see clear through the basement to the other side where our washer and dryer sit. In the words of my pal, Eeyore, “Oh bother.” It was an entertaining hour of guarding the hole, trying to keep from freezing and watching the cop question the girls. The hole was finally boarded up by one of the very nice men who work for our crummy landlord just before 8pm and then we all ran back inside, got hot chocolate and watched Love Actually. Just another Sunday evening in The Prov…

“There’s a hole in the wall, where the men can see it all.
There’s a place in France, where the…nope, it’s just the intern house.”
– Sandra

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: