• Thursday, January 23 4:02 p.m. A Janes Road resident said a gray-bearded man in blue sweat pants had been sleeping on her porch, where he may have left a doo-doo deposit. He’d since migrated to a remove across the street, where, from underneath a blue blanket, he gazed threateningly at her. Police moved him along, something he’s used to.
• Friday, January 24 2:47 p.m. A long-haired man at Giuntoli Lane and Janes Road set up an argument clinic in the middle of a sidewalk, blocking walkers-by and inspiring debates of a rancorous nature. At some point he grew weary of the caustic colloquy and cosseted himself in the all-enfolding shrubbery of a nearby motel.
• Saturday, January 25 2:35 a.m. A doorhandle tryer shone a flashlight into cars at the Community Center, tugging at the doors and hissing at they who dared to question his sketchish procedures.
4:56 p.m. A bald man in a T-shirt went way wiggo in the university library lobby, throwing computers as part of the frightening freakout. A witness took refuge in the basement as police were summoned.
5:45 p.m. Sitabouts on the back loading dock of a Valley West business were seized by an infrequent burst of productive energy. Unfortunately it was misspent as they busied themselves “turning dumpsters into their houses,” then apparently lost interest and wandered away.
• Monday, January 27 9:08 a.m. A woman could be heard near the marsh log pond screaming that she was going to stab a man in the face.
12:17 p.m. A Valley Wester detected what seemed to him to be subtle indications of hostility from another individual, these including death threats and text messages vowing to burn down two of his houses.
• Tuesday, January 28 11:03 p.m. A sweat-panted man exhausted himself yelling at employees of a Plaza business and passersby, then, based on some subsconscious primal imperative possibly utilizing Earth’s magnetic field for navigation, set a course for the donut shop.
12:04 p.m. A woman on 14th Street wept as she held up a sign that read, “Fleeing domestic violence.”
12:38 p.m. Someone at budget-friendly Valley West motel spoke nonsensically about a stolen flute, leaving out key details such as when it was stolen.
1:31 p.m. Someone stole outgoing mail from a 27th Street resident’s mailbox, including a car payment check. This he altered, changing the “Pay to the order of” line to his name.
3:40 p.m. A woman arriving at a Courtyard Circle apartment found the front door ajar, fresh blood on the porch and a comforter covered in blood stuffed in a nearby trash can. No one had seen the resident for days, and they didn’t respond to calls to come outside.
• Wednesday, January 29 3:09 a.m. A woman dragged a blue trash can down Valley East Boulevard, then in an unexpected twist, it looked like she jabbed a needle into her arm.
10 a.m. A 10th Street resident reported in the most high-volume, gibberish-rich manner possible the offenses of her ex-boyfriend. Over multiple calls, a dispatcher was able to squint their ears well and extract enough signal from the noise to understand that the ex was sending texts and “random people” to her home to spy on her.
12:24 p.m. A man with more neck tattoos than bank accounts nonetheless demanded “his money” in an outside voice at a downtown financial institution, as though baying at bank tellers would make an account with funds available snap into existence. He and his mighty baseball cap were gone when police arrived.
4:06 p.m. A man with a bright orange knife in his pocket threatened bank employees downtown, and was moved along.
4:54 p.m. The pageant of manly valor continued in the person of a graybeard with a single massive dreadlock sitting with his pants down on the pedestrian walkway.
• Thursday, January 30 1:14 a.m. Another in Arcata’s limitless supply of meandering manimals flared with fusspottery, an outgoing sort of bloke whose neocortex had long ago boiled away due to thermal overload from the overclocked basal ganglia and flaring limbic functions that govern his lifestyle. So when he spotted a woman at a downtown hotel, he reactively erupted in volleys of profanity and clutched at himself in ways best not detailed. Rather than passively accept this paroxysm of savoir faire, she called both BS and the cops on him. She followed the boozy berator for a bit, at which point he charged and pushed her. She was advised to stop following the bellowing brute, but the line went dead. Someone was arrested for public drunkenness, likely the splenetically modified organism.
9:28 a.m. A bearded man in a red hat threatened to shower F Street passersby with acid, then took his leave.
• Friday, January 31 2:31 a.m. Verbatim from the dispatcher log:
Female voice heard yelling
Nothing else heard
And nothing seen
2:42 a.m. Meanwhile back at the donut shop, a man bedazzled the bleary patronage with a hat of gold, down from which rained long, curly blond tresses. His shimmering, Zeus-like nimbus radiated with all the majesty of a coronal mass ejection, though he tarnished the display by blurting forth the same old dumbellian oaths and curses we’ve all had quite enough of, thank you. (So, my dude, the patter part of your donut dominance drive definitely needs further R&D.) And in keeping with tradition, the alpha fail’s steadfast pledge not to leave when asked instantly evaporated at the news of incipient copsequences.
3:10 p.m. A woman in tie-dye sweatshirt and backpack somehow entered a Seventh Street business without the doorbell dinging, and was discovered with company cash in her hands.