Just Call Me Nosy Rosy!

I believe that if the character, Dr. Sheldon Cooper, from Big Bang Theory was more than a fictitious character; he would know me as Nosy Rosy.

I don’t know what it is about me, but I have been rightly accused of being nosy on more than one occasion. Once when I was working at the hotel as a housekeeper, the head of housekeeping told me I was nosy. I can’t remember what was happening, but I am sure I was staring with open curiosity.

On more than one occasion I find myself glaring, or sometimes sneaking peeks out the window to see what is happening in the street below. Whether it’s because all the kids in the neighborhood are playing basket ball across the street, or because there are six police cruisers lined up in front of the house across the street.

That last one happened last night. I have no idea what was going on. I told myself the writer in me wanted to know. It was nearly midnight, and there they were, officers of the law congregating in the wide open doorway of the house across the street. I went from openly glaring to sneaking peeks because one of the officers pulled out a flashlight and seemed to shine it right into my window. My head went down so fast! I don’t think he saw me, but it almost felt like he knew they were being watched.

While no arrests were made, and no corpses were carried from the house across the street, it didn’t stop me from imagining all sorts of scenarios. I tell you, there is a never ending supply of fodder for suspense stories on my street. I’ll miss this when Hubby and I move in less than two weeks. Oddly enough, we’re moving into the heart of downtown Hamilton. I used to think that was the place with the most drama, after all that’s where the crack heads all congregate, and it’s where the homeless sleep in the streets.

Mind you, all the times I have visited the apartment we’re moving into, it has been nothing but calm and delightful. So we’ll see what happens. Call me Nosy Rosy, I’m just plain old curious.

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