You know, I’m sure we’ve all done some dumb stuff in our lives. Probably some of that stuff happened when we were young and goofy. Possibly someone yelled: “Hey-you-kids-get-offa-my-lawn” or “Shut-up-and-go-home” or some such thing.
I understand why people yell those things at roving gangs of idiots. Actually, I have understood this for a long time, at least since I started having to pay for things with my own money.
My tolerance for “stupid” is getting lower.
Here’s a little story.
Not long ago I wrote a column about how we have become a two-car family. We bought a shiny, pretty, new car that Groom-boy uses to commute to his job in Ottawa.
Our driveway is tiny. When we had a van, it barely fit. Even with a small car we have to suck in our guts to get between the car and the neighbouring house if we are carrying groceries.
Needless to say, there is nowhere to park a second car. In the winter, when parking on the street is prohibited, we have made arrangements to share the in-laws’ driveway, but now that spring is here we have been parking across from our house on the street.
Our neighbourhood is residential, but it is sandwiched between two very busy streets. We are a block from a high school and about three blocks from the downtown core.
During the school year, large groups of kids travel between downtown and the high school. I can’t tell you how many gravy-coated/pizza-stained Styrofoam plates I have retrieved from my front lawn. Recycling bins have been known to get booted down the street like impromptu rectangular soccer balls.
On the weekends, we are often awakened by throngs of morons hooting and screeching down our street on their way home from the bars. Once our car was “tagged” by someone with a marker. We’ve had mats and planters stolen off of our porch.
It’s charming.
The Perth police routinely patrol our street. I see them often. It’s just that even the dumbest of stupid people don’t tend to do bad things when the police are watching.
Case in point. Sometime between 2 and 3 a.m. on Sunday, May 20, I awoke to the sound of voices and banging. In my foggy-headed sleepiness, I equated the sounds to someone kicking something. Someone yelled, “Hey!” I got up and looked out a window, but by then could only see one guy walking down the street. I went back to bed and heard nothing else.
The next morning, one of our neighbours came to the door. He had been awakened, too, except he went right to his front door and saw a group of young people walking by. He says one of them jumped on the hood of another neighbour’s car, which was parked on the street. He climbed onto the roof and then the trunk.
Then this genius jumped from that trunk onto the hood of the car parked directly behind it.
Our car. The shiny pretty two-month-old one.
He jumped onto the roof before jumping off.
At some point our neighbour yelled “Hey!” and the kids carried on around the corner.
(I would like to mention here that because this is a family newspaper, I am not allowed to use the word or supporting adjectives I would like to use to describe this person who did this thing.)
Sigh. It’s one thing if the first ding or scratch on your new car is caused by a random stone chip or a careless action on your part, but when some butthead comes along and, in mere seconds, manages to damage property with a thoughtless act, it’s beyond annoying.
There are several dents on the hood and roof of our car. We contacted the Perth police and an officer collected evidence. There are witnesses. We’ll see what comes of it. (By all means, call the police at 613-267-3131 if you know anything about it.)
Now I get to take time away from work to look into repairs, not to mention what it may ultimately cost. Thank you, butthead.
Now get offa my street.
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