I got a ride home Friday night and therefore didn’t go by the syringe house.
I drove by the syringe house Saturday after I took my cat to the vet. One of the young men was on the stoop drinking coffee, and therefore I didn’t look for the syringe.
I planned to walk to work Monday morning, but my friend, who’s neighborhood I moved into, saw me and gave me a ride, and therefore…
Last night I walked to the grocery store — probably half a mile in the opposite direction — and then back on my usual walk home.
Yes. Still there. Still bright blue handle. Still a cap over where the needle would be.
I was in a hurry. My BF was coming for the dinner I just bought. I tried to walk and look up my town’s pd at the same time.
They take text tips. That was great. I had a picture to send.
Wouldn’t go through.
Wouldn’t go through again.
And again on my third attempt.
I arrived home and got dinner moving in the right direction and gave them a call.
The person on the other end sounded disinterested about my suspicion it was not an actual syringe, but did say they would check it out.
Nothing in the paper. Nothing on TV this morning.
I will probably never know, but I know my conscience is clear.
Interesting side note about the walk to work today: 1) Syringe was gone. 2) One of my state’s gubernatorial candidates, whom I’ve met once and seen a bunch of times in person and on TV, said hi to me as he passed me on the sidewalk, not far from the syringe house. He was walking a dog and studying his phone. He had on a very nice suit and election stickers and stuff. He didn’t, however, ask for my vote, or even volunteer his name or ask for mine. He was just walking his dog before the big primary day began. Apparently. I confess, I didn’t even know he lived in my town.