An audibly distressed woman called JCSO to report a fairly bizarre phone call. As she told it, a man with an unfamiliar but “distinctive” voice rang her up and began asking questions like “what are your weaknesses?” and “if somebody sat on you and tickled your ribs, would that be a weakness?” She asked that he identify himself, but he declined, saying that if she didn’t recognize his voice he’d rather keep her in “suspense” until she figured it out. After hanging up she tried to learn the man’s number through *57 but found it blocked. Neither could she get that information from the phone company because that office was closed for the day. The odd exchange upset her considerably because her husband is frequently away on business. A deputy advised her to contact the phone company in the morning and then call him with any new information. He also scheduled her address for extra patrols.

Juliet called the carabanieri in distress. She’d gotten into a fight with Romeo, her unofficial beloved of some two years, and now feared lest he was running rampant about her compartments, despoiling her cherished possessions and terrorizing her darling pets. Would a carabaniere be so kind as to escort her back to their once-happy nest and help end the lovers’ quarrel? A carabaniere would, but first wanted to know what had roused Romeo’s darker passions in the first place. “He lied to me,” Juliet lamented. Turns out she’d found Romeo’s former consort’s phone number “hidden deep inside his cell phone,” and he didn’t appreciate being called onto the carpet about it. After fortifying himself with deep draughts of ale, Romeo began explaining to Juliet exactly why “everything is your fault,” which is when Juliet decided to enlist a knight to champion her cause. Arriving on the doorstep at about 9 p.m., that JCSO knight found Romeo welcoming, gracious, even ebullient  ‘Tis true, Romeo said, that his and Juliet’s stars were a bit crossed, lately, but her belongings remain whole and un-besmirched, and her darling pets have never been more content. Alas, the law holds no sway over crimes of the heart, and as Romeo bid the courtly constable a cordial buona sera, Juliet retired to await the dawn in the parlor of a bosom companion.

A woman on South End Road called for a badge at about 1:45 a.m. on July 5 after mixing it up with a neighbor. According to her statement, she’d been snug abed when, at about 1:30, she heard a loud noise outside and rose to discover her rocking horse apparently run over and lying in the driveway behind her car, and her neighbor and his friend walking away from his car. She inquired as to why he’d run down her rocking horse, but he merely laughed and retired to his apartment, directly above her own. Angered, she intended to drive over to her mom’s house, but said that as she started to leave the two men came out and started banging on her hood. Startled, she “bumped” the rocking horse with her car, then ran back inside and called the cops. For his part, the neighbor denied hitting the toy horse or pounding on the woman’s car, but both he and his friend clearly recalled seeing their accuser back into the plastic pony, run over a child seat lying nearby and yell at a neighbor who imprudently came out to see what all the ruckus was about. At first, the woman told the officer, she’d merely wanted him to compel her neighbor to apologize. Upon reflection, however, she’d decided that he should make two girls staying the night at the man’s apartment go home. Alas, the deputy explained, as far as he could tell no crime had been committed, leaving him no grounds to make anybody go anywhere. Fortunately, the woman and her family are moving soon, and all parties said they’d try to get along till then.

Festering frustrations and flying food brought a sheriff’s deputy to a Kingsbury Road duplex on the evening of July 1. According to the man on the ground floor, the guy upstairs had been a fly in his chowder ever since moving in four months ago. Upon hearing the top-floor man return home earlier that afternoon, the first-story fellow headed for the patio with his video camera hoping to film his adversary during an un-neighborly moment. Imagine his chagrin when – without any provocation at all, mind you – hot entree and cold beverage came raining down from the deck above, nearly soiling his shirt and fouling his lens. In his defense, the accused supper-slinger said he’d merely stepped outside to dine al fresco and, startled by the sight of a camera pointing up at him from below, accidentally dropped his dinner. Eager to put a lid on the simmering hostilities, the landlord dropped by and offered to let the second-story man out of his 1-year lease, and the earlier the better. Having perhaps lost his appetite for conflict, the tenant agreed to vacate the premises by the end of August. Although no charges were filed, nobody went to bed hungry for justice.

It’s nice to know that selling stuff online doesn’t have to be detached and impersonal. On June 29, a Conifer cyber-entrepreneur called JCSO dispatch with details of a fairly warm exchange he’d shared after listing an automobile on Craig’s List. When a certain interested party saw the posting and phoned for details, the would-be salesman explained that he’d purchased the car a mere two weeks earlier for the specific purpose of driving it to SoCal and back and, its mission accomplished, he’d put the item back on the block. Rather than praise the seller for his industry and candor, the caller angrily accused him of illegal trade practices and negotiations broke down abruptly. Shortly after, a man who sounded an awful lot like the dissatisfied prospect left him a voice mail saying “you must be the little (bad person) that’s selling the car,” and promising to drop by one day soon to test-drive his kiester with a hob-nailed boot. When pressed by deputies for more information, the complainant allowed that he might have used caller-ID to make a counter-offer including strong misgivings about the fellow’s manhood and possibly describing him as a “piece of (biological waste).” Either way, he wanted the transaction documented in case the man tries to close the deal.