Lazy

If you’re driving down the street and you have to swerve around a trash can that some well-intentioned neighbor placed too far away from the curb, and you’re so concerned about the hazard that it’s creating that you call the police to fix it, instead of pushing it to the curb yourself, you’re lazy.

If you come across a car in an apartment complex parking lot with a door wide open, and you notice three booster seats in the car, but you don’t know who the car belongs to, so you call the police, you’re lazy. You’re probably correct in assuming a busy mother with her hands full didn’t notice that one of her beautiful children left the car door open. You took the time to peek in the car and notice that it didn’t appear to have been broken into, since nothing seems to be missing. What could the police possibly do in this situation that you couldn’t have done yourself in mere seconds?

I’m going to do the same thing I’ll do if you call about the trash can. I’m going to spend upwards of twenty minutes driving around town to accomplish something you could have done in seconds. I’m going to drive across town in this ridiculous weather, drive around the parking lot until I find the car, walk over to it, lock the door and close it, and drive away. If, for some insane reason, you’re still in the area when I do this, don’t expect a thank you from me for performing such a noble duty. I’m all out of my “Neighbor of the Year” stickers.

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