I don’t like the sound of hovering helicopters; it’s one thing if they just fly over, but when they’re just circling overhead, it puts me in mind of disasters in the not-so-distant past. Last night, during Six Feet Under, a gaggle of them were just sitting over a spot a few blocks over with searchlights and everything.
This happens from time to time in this neighborhood — the last time, it was a drug raid — but it still makes me nervous, and now I’m scanning the local news to see what was going on in Bay Ridge last night at around 9:20.
I’m also saddened to report that I was leaning on my windowsill on my elbows, chatting about it on the phone. I’m turning into that lady from 227.