Well, That’s A First

I just bid goodbye to two of Durham’s finest, who had been sent ’round to our home to investigate a complaint that our address was selling guns and drugs. The officers came to our back door — which we neveer use — because “that’s how you have to get into the upstairs apartment,” and were a little startled to discover this disheveled old professor and his wife’s minuscule lap dog.
 
We went over the various possibilities: no, it didn’t seem likely that the other half of our duplex were the targets; no, we haven’t complained to the police about someone, such that the two addresses might have gotten mixed up; no, we haven’t had hostile run-ins with anyone in the neighborhood.
 
The officers concluded that I’m not an arms dealer or pusher, and we had a good conversation, but — alas! — no trangressors were brought to justice. And, thankfully, no record in a fingerprint file.