Viva Las Vegas (or Get Me Out of this God-Forsaken Town)

Friday night was an eventful night in the Jones's neighborhood. Ty and I had just finished watching the most depressing movie of all time, and were ready to turn in for the night. We were getting up early to go to Zion and we wanted to get a good night's sleep. Ty was wandering around the house, closing it up for the night and I was ironing a pair of shorts in the bathroom so I wouldn't have to do it in the morning. We had laughed a bit a few minutes before because we had heard something outside that sounded like male Polynesian dancers doing that cool, macho yell thing. All of a sudden, I heard a very loud POP. It made me duck down a bit by instinct. I slammed the ironing board up (it hangs on the back of the bathroom door) and hollered to Ty, "Is that what I think it is?!" Apparently it was, cuz Ty was already calling 911. He had actually heard two shots before that one, but I hadn't cuz I was singing along with a CD. We ran into our son's room to look out in the front of our house. There was anywhere from 20-30 young men stomping around in the street, holding sticks of various sizes and trying to look tough. (Actually, they looked tough enough to me!) They were all yelling and charging at each other and cars parked in the street with their sticks raised all menacing. It was really scary! We were watching this scene in front of our house praying for the police to arrive. There is only one entrance into our neighborhood, so if they could get there before the kids were able to scatter, they would be trapped. So we're watching this, Ty is muttering, "Come on come on come on" like a mantra and kids are scrambling into cars and pealing out on the street, driving WAAAY to fast for our neighborhood. As we watched, a truck pulling into the neighborhood was almost hit by two of the cars! Then, much to my terror, Ty declared that he was "going out there!" Crazy husband says what? "Oh no you're not!" I said. He actually responded with, "But somebody could be hurt." WHO CARES?!?! The police were on their way, they could handle it, and besides, we had no way of knowing who else was out there with a baseball bat or worse! As he's putting on his running pants, I am demanding, begging, pleading, and everything I can think of to get him to change his mind. Hello, he has a family to think about, this is no time to be a "hero!" Of course, he didn't listen to a word I was saying, and while I was sobbing hysterically, he went on out to "check it out." What an @&*! So, then I was scared AND pissed. Luckily, nothing happened and the remaining kids dispersed. The cops showed up, first two cars, then five more (thanks a million, guys) and I went out to join Ty and Karl, a friend from church and down the street. We made our statement to the cops and went to bed. 2 hours later than planned. Needless to say, we were a little late getting going in the morning.
I can't wait to get out of this town!