I have never gotten off on vandalism with the exception of some well
rendered pieces by accomplished street artists. I mean Banksy. I
personally was never a spray painter, except of livestock which I
will cover later. I didn't break glass and I was much more likely to
want to clean something up than to litter. A few nights in my teen
years there would be some toilet papering going on and for the sake
of the companionship I would go along for the harmless fun. One night
my sister and her friends were going to go out but for some reason
she was unable to go but they still invited me along for the fun. It
wasn't. It was too cold and the wind was blowing and I was regretting
ever sneaking out to participate in such joyless foofaraw. I called
it a night after an hour or so and made my way all by my lonesome
back across town to go home to my warm bed and some relaxation. I was
walking back up our driveway when I was startled by my lurking mother
who was tipped off to my absence and was waiting in the dark to catch
me red handed. It was a funny thing about my mother. She wouldn't
know where I was all day, all afternoon, and I could go out at night
til 11 and 12 sometimes and she wouldn't even ask where I was but
when it piqued her interest she would all of notion get really
interested in my activities and decide it was time for some
regulation and discipline. This was usually very short lived and I
would just play along until she lost interest and then go back to the
status quo. This night though she was going to work out a
little swift justice like Clint Eastwood in the High Plains Drifter
and whip me for my sins. I do not know where she got the idea because
I had not been whipped in probably six years and that had been by my
dad for trying to kill my brother in a vicious melee. Which
punishment she had protested as barbaric. This night something
snapped and she had a belt in hand waiting for me to come home. She
grabbed and startled me and almost got herself punched for her
troubles but when I realized it was my mom creeping in the dark I
un-cocked my, honestly not very, deadly punch maker. She asked me in
a riled up and wavering voice if I had fun destroyign the town. I
told her honestly no that we had not even gone toilet papering and
that I was just cold and miserable and I wanted to go inside. She
told me it was tiem for a belt spanking to teach me a lesson and to
keep my wailing from waking up the other children or the neighbors
she was going to spank me in the unmounted cab-over camper. I humored
her even though it would have taken exactly no effort to refuse and
overpower my mom. She followed me into the narrow confines of the
camper, a space honestly ill suited for arm swinging activity of any
sort let alone to generate the force necessary to give a strapping
young man a punitive belt beating. She told me that what I had been
up to was unacceptable and that she was sorry but I had to be taught
a lesson. She tried to give me some whacks with the belt but there
was no angle, speed, or snap to it and it was really hard for me not
to laugh at her. I did laugh at her and the made her really mad she
was sputtering with rage while she tried to generate pain for my
punishment. It just kept getting funnier as she hit the walls and
fold out table with more sauce then she could muster for my bottom
and she finally quit, storming off, saying that I was going to get
some really big trouble in the morning when my dad was up. I did get
some rather of odd trouble. Not bad trouble but definitely odd.
