Kat Kingston simply could not have been less concerned with all the commotion going on outside. After all, there are only so many things that come up that are worth interrupting her otherwise idyllic life for, and clearly whatever rabble-rousing was taking place was absolutely not worth her time.

            She had a lovely house in a lovely neighborhood and a life that was as perfect as it could be. Never mind that…that family of ruffians that moved in next door. She’d had cameras installed to capture all of their goings on, and she’d been emailing the video each week to the HOA president.

            Like she was making trouble, like they said!

            Never mind. She’d politely declined their invitations to join them with their barbecues and dancing and shots of tequila enough times for them to have absolutely no doubt of her disdain for their moving into the neighborhood.

            Besides, she was on a mission of her own.

            So, she turned up the TV surround sound system loud enough to drown out all that nonsense.

            She was already into the eighth episode in the second season, and she had no intention of breaking her string of watching a single episode of Sex and the City each night at precisely eight o’clock. No more, no less. Just one episode a day, until she’d watched all 94 episodes in all six seasons.

            The hell with whatever shady business was going on outside.

            Carrie and Mr. Big were moving on, while Miranda was dating a bartender (if you can imagine that!), and that idiot Donald Trump shows up (oh, good God!). She liked Samantha the best, anyway. Strong and confident, Sam could have been Kat’s friend. Cosmopolitans, baby! And of course she’s with a millionaire. Who cares if he’s 72. Cosmopolitans and Viagra, baby!

            The next night, at about a quarter past eight, there was a knock on the door. Like Kat was going to answer it.

            Probably one of those neighbors. Always wanting something. Gas for their mower, a cup of sugar they’d never pay back, no! my cable’s not out, pay your damn bill.

            So, she turned up the surround sound and hit the LOUDNESS button to crank the bass.

            The knocking turned to pounding.

            Damn them!

            She turned the volume up again, just as Samantha’s old boyfriend turns out to have been a drag queen, and Charlotte was getting all wrapped up in some uncircumcised guy, and Carrie’s getting all carried away about fixing Mr. Big (like that’ll happen!).

            In the morning, the mother of that…that family stopped her in her driveway as she was backing her car out of her garage to tell her that some man had been beaten nearly to death walking with his young daughter the night before right there, right in front of their houses.

            Kat smiled at her with her least interested smile, but really, she could have cared less.