sprayhawk

Two Incidents Ultimately Revealing Personal Immaturity

INCIDENT #1:

I am fourteen years old.  I am hanging out in my Affluent Sector, or “subdivision” with a local kid who I will call Wacko.  He should be referred to as Wacko because he was insane.  I picked up on this right away.  He looked right through me and everything else with his black beady eyes.  Just black and shiny.  He liked to talk about handguns.  He had a shaved head and wore camo pants.  Do not trust people in camouflage pants unless: 1) they have been in the army or 2) they are hunting at that very moment.  Wacko fell into neither of these categories.

However, I was new to this particular Affluent Sector and found myself hanging out with Wacko.  We had little to do – fancy that, being in a subdivision and having little to do – so we dug up some duct tape.  Everyone knows that duct tape is amazing.  FACT!

So we take this duct tape and I don’t know if it was my idea or Wacko’s idea, but we decide to stretch it across the road with the sticky side up.  When a car would come by, the plan was that the tape would adhere to the rubber of the tires.  With the strip of duct tape stuck to the tires, the car would continue to roll, but the ends of the strips would flap up and smack against the sides of the car over and over.  This sounds like “THWACK THWACK THWACK!”  Very satisfying.  However, to the unsuspecting driver, this sounds like a flat tire.  The driver must stop, get out, remove the duct tape, and then drive off, all the while knowing that they are probably being laughed at by the assholes that put the duct tape in the road.  We were those assholes.

So the first few cars don’t work.  They are going too fast.  We change our methods and place a strip just after a corner, so that the car must be going slower.  It is around eleven thirty at night, we are hiding in Wacko’s bushes, and the trap is set.

A silver shiny long Lexus rolls around the corner.  We hold our breath.  The car rolls over the tape and then, “THWACK THWACK THWACK!”  Success!

The car slams to a halt.  A well-dressed woman in heels steps out of the car.  She is obviously confused.  She reaches down and grabs at the duct tape, trying to pull it off of the tires.  However, the car has unluckily (in her case) come to a stop directly over the duct tape, so that removal is impossible.  She does not understand this.  She begins swearing, “FUCK!  YOU FUCKING KIDS!  FUCK!”  and things like that.  Just spinning in circles cursing at every house in sight.

I am laughing my ass off.  Wacko is laughing his ass off.  We almost laugh our asses fully off.

Eventually, the woman realizes her error, gets into the car, rolls it forward one foot, gets back out of her car, and then removes the tape.  She then curses at the sky one last time and gets back into her car.  She slams the door and screeches off.

INCIDENT #2:

I am twenty-two years old.  It is Friday night.

We are at a party sipping beers.  A lot of them.  I find a roll of duct tape on the deck.  I walk off the deck with the duct tape, walk around the house, and head directly for the street.

Roughly ten intoxicated juvenile adults follow behind.  We march out into the street.

“Watch this!” I say.

After some struggling with the wind, having tape blown away, I finally get a nice strip set up.  I am kneeling on the ground, sticking the last bit down to the road.

I look over my left shoulder and see that a car is about to come around the corner.  Whoo!  What luck!

But it’s a police car.

“THWACK THWACK THWACK!”

The flashing blue lights burst to life.

I hop up and take off running.  I am running behind the houses, down the alley.  My buddy catches up to me and says, “Dude!  Act casual!”

We skirt around back to the party and sip more beers.

The rest of the onlookers eventually stream back in, basking in the wonder and inconveniences of duct tape.

FINAL LESSON: I am not any more mature than I was when I was fourteen years old.