Last night when I took the recycling out, I was surprised to see many police cars and our entire street blocked off with police tape. I called out to Ned to come take a look at the excitement. He, another neighbor and I gathered on the sidewalk to chat about what might be going on…for a moment, at least. Just as we started to wonder, two police officers, one with a police canine, walked by. One officer said to us: “Can you please go inside?”

Yes, yes I can. Some weird stuff has gone down in me neighborhood before, but that was the first time a police officer has asked me to get inside. So he didn’t have to tell me twice. I turned and BOLTED inside the house. For the next hour or so, I alternated between hiding and peeking out the window, wondering what sort of criminal activity might be a afoot.

When the police forces dispersed around 10:30ish pm (heavy on the “ish” — I’m not sure of the time),  I heard the scoop from my next-door neighbor. She had walked down to the corner earlier to ask the police what was going on and got stuck there. They would not let her walk back to her house (for safety, not because they were questioning her).

Was it a drug bust? A raid? A murderer on the loose?

Nope. A suspicious package. Apparently someone on my street works at an embassy, which will rename nameless on this blog. Said embassy has been getting some bomb threats. She got a package at work that they forwarded to her home, and she did not know what it was. She called the police.  Preliminary inspections revealed it did indeed look suspicious. So they had to shut the street down while they investigated it more.

Until they discovered that the package was…

wait for it …

a wah-wah pedal.

How perfect is that? It is as if the pedal were laughing at the shenanigans. Oh, that every police mystery could end with such a zany, harmless little zinger.