Outhouse Sketchiness

On our evening run tonight, Shea and I went to the park we normally do. Now that the weather is about 10 degrees warmer than it was during what is considered winter, the local hoodlums have come out to the park's basketball court. Hoodlums of all ages and sizes come and try to play.

Today, since it was raining, a shocker in our miserable April forecast, the basketball court wasn't a popular spot. Apparently, most of these guys are afraid of melting. The three guys I did see were pretty young and looking awfully suspicious. Suspicious not because of their dress, color, or age, but suspicious because they were looking at me with that "we are doing something wrong," look that my students give when they are doing something wrong.

They were making their way from the basketball courts to the public outhouse at the park. Even when they arrived at the outhouse, they were peeking around the corner at me. Something told me they weren't just seeking shelter from the rain. I tried to imagine what these young guys might be doing, and I decided they were going into the bathroom to maybe smoke cigarettes or drink beer, having to hide it because they were underage. Seemed perfectly reasonable to me.

Not someone to think the worst, Shea and I took over our normal spot to play fetch. It just happens to face the outhouse building. After running around for a few minutes, I peered down there as I had changed my mind and decided they weren't smoking cigarettes or drinking beer, but they were doing some sort of drugs. Lo and behold, they had shut the door to public bathroom.

With the closed door, the level of sketchiness raised significantly. Again, not being one to think the worst, I began to think the worst. Maybe they had someone trapped in there and were hurting them in some disturbing sort of way. With that thought, I whipped my phone out of my pocket and was ready to call the local police. Then, I gained control of myself. I realized I didn't hear any unusual noises coming from that direction and convinced myself it was simply a group of somewhat sketchy, hoodlumish teens smoking weed. Sure, they shouldn't be doing that, but they didn't need to be arrested for it. So, I put my phone away. 

Since then, I have been wondering if I did the right thing. I am slightly hesitant to see the local paper tomorrow to hear of a beating, murder, or rape at my neighborhood park. Should I have dialed?