Saturday, July 17, 2010

(Son) Naughty II

Eggs were on sale for cheap. My two friends and I thought egging houses would be fun that night. Imagine Beavis and Butthead coming up to your check out counter. “What neighborhood do you live in?” she said as she was ringing up our eggs.

“Ummmm why?”

“Here is the area of town I live in, please don’t egg my house.”

“OK. He He He.” That isn’t even where we were egging and she thinks we are doing her a favor. “He He He”.

Anyway, we egg houses that night and go to sleep. My dad woke us all up and said, “We are going to wash some cars this morning.” Evidently there was a guy in the neighborhood where we egged that couldn’t sleep and went out to his garage. He saw us walk by at 1:00 am and found it suspicious. Hhhhmmm….really? He saw me flick 4 eggs onto his RV and somehow tracked us down. My house was at least 4 miles from there. I distinctly remember the house because I flicked the last four eggs, out of hundreds, onto the vehicle. But it wasn’t his RV we were to wash. My dad drove us down to a house around the corner from there. It had a unique looking red door I had not forgotten. We egged that door with several eggs. Why? Because it was unique and red. Out stepped an old man with a cane and his elderly wife walking behind him. I don’t know how my friends felt but my heart dropped. We began washing their vehicles with all adults watching. The owners of the house had already cleaned their door but it smelled absolutely awful. When we finished the man limped over to us and smiled. He didn’t say a word. He simply patted us all on the back and went inside. That was worse than any screaming lecture. Let me now tell you about a screaming lecture that lasted a few hours.

My bad behavior caught up with me and so I was on probation. Part of my probation included touring a state prison. I showed up and rolled my eyes at what I had to sign. It said something like if I were taken hostage they would not try to save me from the prisoner’s evil clutches. “Oh great” I thought, “Scared straight. Just get through it Goose.” My tour included going down long hallways of imprisoned men who spoke to me in a sexual way. They said I had certain female parts they would like to take part in which was not pleasant to hear. I was scared but there was no part of me that showed it. That made the prison guards mad. When it was just me and another guard walking down a stretch of the prison he said, “Aren’t you scared?” I think I may have just shrugged. I don’t know if the next part was part of the program or just for me but I walked into a large area where the prison cells could be seen two stories up surrounding the borders of the area. They guards surrounded me and took turns getting into my face and screaming. I didn’t know what happened next until later but I sincerely dissociated. I didn’t hear a word they said. I remembered one particular man who screamed at me the loudest because it had spittle running down his chin. It was as if time slowed down so I could study the intricacies of his face. His furrowed brow, the lines on his cheeks, the 3 day stubbled beard, and oh yeah the flying saliva. Anybody remember the movie Turner and Hooch? Maybe the movie Beethoven? I was probably thinking about what I was going to have for lunch when someone interrupted and said the yelling was over. I imagine it was fun for the guards to have the monotony of the day broken up for them and to feel a cathartic peace in their souls while also feeling as if they did their good deed for the day.

I went home and had to write a report on what I saw, heard, and felt about my experience. I looked at the yellow writing tablet with the pencil’s eraser in my mouth. I then set it down on the counter and flipped on daytime television. I’ll be damned if I could remember much of what happened that day.

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