Our new neighborhood in Fairwood feels very old-fashioned in some ways. The houses are pure 1960s and 1970s California. The neighbors stop and chat about their dogs and golf and who to call about that hornet’s nest we found in the flowerbed. There are amiable debates on the neighborhood mailing list about which local grocery is better and cheaper.
Unfortunately, we got bitten by one of those same old-fashioned American traditions.
Someone egged my car overnight.
Our neighbors have been very friendly, so I don’t suspect the older lady next door of sneaking over with an egg carton in hand at 2 a.m. But with the flood of newcomers to Seattle, particularly from California, there’s some resentment and resistance to strangers. Parking a car with temp tags in the driveway was probably enough to attract a drive-by egging.
We found the egg in time to wash it off with no harm done, so I’m not too worried.