the setting: briarwood. a sleepy urban/suburban neighborhood in queens. nights are quiet here, except when they are occasionally pierced by the sound of a car alarm. always the same alarm, always only for a few seconds before it's deactivated.
it is a mystery as old as time itself. or at least, as old as my occupancy in this 3rd floor apartment in sleepy briarwood.
today i caught him. the guy who just opens his car door and lets the alarm screech instead of deactivating it before he gets in. he is a middle aged asian man driving an old beater of a minivan. and he lives in my building!
in typical mikey fashion, i said nothing. but i know what he looks like now, and i know where he lives. and i have a whole drawer full of stinkbombs here. and one of them has his name on it. metaphorically that is. i don't really know his name.