Upping my street cred on Indiana Avenue...

When I decided I wanted to move to Nashville, I was hell bent bound and determined to make it happen.  My roommate and I gave plasma to make money, and just literally saved every penny we could.  So, when we found the adorable 3 bedroom house for a great (recently reduced price) we were so excited. The only thing I knew about Nashville was shopping, so the part of town it was in meant nothing to me.  Yes, we did notice the janky houses around us... BUT, they were also building new townhouses up the street, there was a church literally across the street, and our landlords friend lived right beside the church to keep an eye on us too. 



We didn't think living off Charlotte Ave was a big deal, but my parents did.  My aunt lives in Mt Juliet and tells my dad that me living in this area was dangerous and she would never let her kid live here.  So, my mother informed me that I was absolutely not moving into that house.  Well, when I have my mind made up about something... it's going to happen, and my mother is fully aware of this. She then settled with, well the only way I'm letting you move in there is if you and Suzanne take self-defense classes.  Ok, sure mom. 

We move in and everything's great.  Our cozy little house becomes a home and we had no issues what-so-ever.  Then after a couple of months I had my first situation.

I felt like I heard something outside my bedroom window one night,  like a mans voice and sticks breaking. I peaked out and saw nothing. I went to the front door and looked,  nothing. So I went back to bed. I get in my car the next morning, running late of course, and notice all my papers in my glove box are in the passenger floorboard.  Shit.  Then I notice my ipod and Garmin were gone.  Well, at least I'm safe and they didn't break in the house.  Theeeennnn I opened my glovebox. 

Marbles.

Just a bunch of marbles...  hanging out in my glovebox.  I didn't know what to do, and figured I was marked and doomed from the marble gang, so I should just go on to work.  I get to work and realize I should call the cops and report it.  They come and tell me there's nothing they can do since I left the crime scene and have my finger prints all over everything..  I quickly informed the officer that I didn't touch the marbles, please just tell me what the marbles mean.  Do gangs use marbles a lot? Is this some kind of sign?  Should I search my house for marbles?  He told me that he didn't know what the marbles meant, that I shouldn't look too far into it and he had never heard of the marble thief before.  Still to this day, I would be horrified if marbles showed up anywhere in or around my house.  (Friends... DO NOT GET ANY IDEAS)

After that,  I was a bit frightened and I got a baseball bat.  I'm not going to lie... when I was home alone, I slept with it.  I was convinced I would knock someones head off if they came in my house. But for the next situation, I didn't even have the comfort of my baseball bat. 

I was on my way home from work one night around 10:30ish, I pull in my driveway and notice a car sitting in front of my house.  Not a big deal, except there was a man sitting in the car. So I whip it out of my driveway and cruise around the block.  He's still sitting there... all the lights off.  I was basically living alone at the time, So I continue cruising around.  30 minutes later I start freaking out.  The marble gang is waiting on me!  I called a couple of guy friends to ask advice,  they all said I should call the cops.  An hour later he was still there so I called the local police station.  Well they didn't have anyone that should have been there and only could tell me that it could be a unmarked car just checking things out in this part of town.  Really? Cause that's comforting.   So I went and hung out at a friends for a while and then went home. Then, I started considering getting a gun.    But, things started slowing down... my roommates were home more often and I wasn't scared near as often.

Then I met my next door neighbors.  My roommates dog was outside with me and of course ran over to the little red headed girl next door. So I go and start chit chatting with the mom.  Convo was easy, they had just moved from Pittsburgh, she was trying to find a job in the school system, her husbands a warlock and she's a witch.  Skkkkeeerrrrrrt.  Say what?  She didn't seem to notice the look of sheer horror that I'm sure was plastered on my face, and continued right on talking about how they used to be Christians and they had been practicing witchcraft for about 10 years and it's definitely the way for them. She tells me that they only practice good spells though, like if someone's sick they light a green candle and say a spell (yes, she went into complete detail) and that they have to go back to Pitt to get there black cat.  Really? a black cat too?!  Ask yourself this question,  what would you say if someone was expecting an answer to how you feel about them being witches?  Because after knowing this woman for 5 minutes, and her telling me this, she looked at me expecting a statement.  I stumble and say,  'Wow.  I've never known a real live witch before.'  (I'm sure the sheer terror look was back) And I'm thinking...  just dont say anything to piss off a witch.  I proceed with, I'm a Christian, but yea I understand everyone has different views...  and I'm running late to an appointment.  It was really nice to meet you, and please let me know if yall ever need anything! She said likewise, and then says, 'If you ever need any good spells, you know where to come!' and smiles.  Creeeeeeeeeeepy.   We never heard much from them, and I waved and kept a nice smile on my face anytime I saw them. Then one time, I came home from work late night, pulled in my driveway to 3 cop cars and 2 undercover cars pulling up and the cops rushing out.  I'm standing in my front yard like wtf... and as they are sneaking literally through my yard, I ask one cop what was going on?  He looked at me and just points next door, and says... we're heading over there.  REALLY?!  Can I get a bit more please?  Nope.  I watched peeking through my front window and see them hiding while one cop knocks on the door like they were about the break the door down and start shooting.  Horrified, I once again call my local cop station and ask if they could tell me something. Nope, they told me it was probably safe to assume it was for a warrant or something small.  Thanks, cause that's going to help me sleep. I went to a friends house that night too. I never found out what that was about.  The next witch story is unexplainable. I had a desk on the front porch that I moved out of my room and was trying to sell.  Well Mr. Warlock came over (picture him... shirt off -b/c he never wore one, and long black curly hair down to his mid back,  mustache, and stumpy.) and asked about it.  I told him they could have it, and he said that he would have to wait for Mrs. Witch to get home to move it because it was so big.  Ok, whatever... i'm just tired of dealing with the desk.  So myself and my roommates watch him leave from the front window... giggling like little kids.  We turned back to the tv and 2 minutes later my roommate looked outside and screamed Spann it's gone!  Sure enough, the desk was gone...  like it vanished into thin air.  We never heard a thing.  Obviously, I'm not saying that they waved a wand and it floated through their front door, but it was weeeeeiiiird.

The last story, and the inspiration for this blog post, came last night.  I am driving down my street and see the blue lights im used to (we lovingly refer to it as 'ohhh it's a light show' in our house), but when i get closer I see crime scene tape wrapped around the stop sign to turn onto my street.  It's wrapped across my driveway and around my mailbox.  Whooooa. What the hell is going on?! So, I pull up to the cop, tell him that's my driveway that's blocked, and ask what the deal was?  He informs me that someone is in the hospital claiming they were ran over here.  He asks if I have been around tonight (im thinking this is my alibi, so im going into serious detail about when I went to work, etc.), and then tells me he thinks it's domestic violence at the house that's beside the church across the street.  I tell him I dont know those people and that I can get to my house from the alley beside it and peace out.   I then think how it's seriously disturbing that I'm not phased by the fact that crime tape was just wrapped around my mailbox and someone was ran over.  I was raised by a father who, if he even saw blue or red lights on the highway that was in front of our subdivision, he would drive down to see if he could help.  And here I am mentally dismissing the fact that someone was ran down in front of my house. 

All of these examples to prove, that I might be from little ol Lawrenceburg, TN.  But I have gained some serious street cred living here... much to my mothers disdain.