Quote of the Day: “I played golf…I did not get a hole in one, but I did hit a guy. That’s way more satisfying. You’re supposed to yell ‘fore’ but I kept thinking there ain’t no way that’s gonna hit him.”
Sometimes I hate my neighborhood. Why? Because they have turned me into that mean old guy who yells at kids. But in my defense, these kids are really damn annoying. I live in a cult-de-sac so they tend to gather right in front and make all kinds of noise, especially when I’m trying to nap. One of them even has a drum set you can hear right across the street.
But this doesn’t even compare to my neighbor two houses down at the end of the street. I never met him but know that he is a former Marine so that should endear him to me, right?
He has teenagers and for some reason, he allows his house to be the “cool” house where they can have parties… almost every weekend. So a bunch of kids constantly are speeding to and from the house with stereo systems blaring. What’s worse is when this isn’t happened, there are loud motorcycles making all kinds of noise driving to and fro.
Last night, they were having another party (of course) and I had just about had it. A group of them were outside talking loudly and I came to the window to observe what was going on. It looked like they were trying to figure out who was going to drive, who was going to ride with whom, etc. Basically, who was the least drunk to drive.
I was getting more and more irritated and ready to put on my clothes to go have a talk with this young people. Carrie didn’t want me to go out there probably because she had been conditioned from childhood to avoid these problems. Her parents lived next to some real delinquents that would play basketball in the street and make all kinds of noise late into the night. When my father-in-law would try to take care of it, he would find his property vandalized not long after.
Last night, one of the cars backed up to the edge of my driveway where the passenger then waited for the driver to return before they left. I was watching this closely because they were so near to my yard.
Then it happened. The passenger was on his cell phone and he climbed out of the car and started to take a piss on my driveway.
I was down the stairs like a bull and busted out through my own front door.
“I KNOW YOU AREN’T PISSING ON MY PROPERTY, STUD!”
I was livid and the kid knew it because he mumbled in to the phone “I gotta go” and then proceeded to fumble with his zipper and saying “Sorry ‘bout that Sir…”
“You need to load up and clear out of here. Now.”
Just then, the driver was returning and they both hopped into the car. The last thing I heard was the passenger say to the driver “We gotta get out of here.”
Good thing I don’t have a shotgun. For the both of us.
Free Advice for Today: “Say something every day that encourages your children.”
- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.