No Sleep in my Neighborhood Tonight

A couple of police cars seem to be involved in the world's slowest chase outside my window. A siren at the intersection 50 yards from my bedroom window wails for about 15 seconds and flashing blue lights reflect off my blinds. It stops, and a siren about a block away takes up the cry. Just as I think I might be able to sleep, it starts again. What kind of a chase sounds like that? I envision officers driving alongside a suspect, saying "OK, get in the car. Don't make me use my siren!"

I peer out my balcony door and see bathrobe-clad neighbors standing in rectangles of light on their decks. It's clear there will be no sleep for us until the cops "get their man" (or woman). Go, cops! With such a large contingent of grumpy, sleepless people at their command, the police should just send us out with assorted truncheons and baseball bats. Desperate as we are for sleep, I bet we'd get 'em in no time. But then, we might hurt ourselves in the process.

I know I have some earplugs around here somewhere. It speaks well for the usual quietness of the neighborhood that I don't really know where to look. When I find them, I think I'll just put them in, pull the covers over my head, and and feel gratitude that my city's finest are keeping me safe--though awake--in the wee hours.