The wife drives her mother home, places the barrel in our parking spot before she leaves. Comes back and the barrel is on its side, as if it's been tossed aside. There's a car in the spot. So I go out there and bury the windshield, roof, back window, and pack snow around the tires. A couple hours later the car's gone so I re-shovel and park. Later on, having run an errand, I returned to find my barrel missing. It was behind a snow bank across the street.
Later still, having gone out again, I found the barrel missing upon my return. So I get out of the car to look for my barrel and some tall yuppie with a case of Sam Adams on his shoulder comes over.
"Hey, you bury in my car?"
"Yeah, you park in my spot?"
"Yeah, but why is it your spot? If everyone just shoveled out and no one left a barrel everything would be fine."
"That's nice, go try it somewhere else. Don't touch my fucking barrel or I'll break your neck"
Ended up going back and forth for 5-10 minutes. I threatened him and his car 30-40 times before finally he says "Listen buddy, you touch my car and I'll take all 5 foot nothin' of you and..." At which point I grabbed him by the shirt and steered him into a snowbank and got on top of him. We were locked up, no punches were thrown, and some guy warming up his car came over to break it up.
1 comment:
I can only imagine the rage that must have been flowing through your body. Could you have taken him? More importantly, would you have been able to stop while he was still breathing?
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