No, that’s really what this is. Unfortunately, I have no pictures.
I was on my way to bed, unbelievably, and considering a bath. As I passed by the table in the living room, I saw the license registration renewal sticker for my wife’s car lying face-up, demanding promised action. (“I’ll do it, I’ll do it!”) The next day was the first of March, and if she drove the cat to the vet at 8:00 a.m. like I knew she’d planned, the car would be illegal. Not that this means much in New Mexico, but still. There was a full moon, no wind, and snow on the ground. I grabbed the sticker, a paper towel, and a flashlight, pulled on my vest and hat, and headed out the door just before midnight.
It was marvelous outside: the mud was barely frozen but I could walk on it, and I didn’t need the light to see. At the top of the drive, I squatted down beside the car and exhaled heavily several times on the expired sticker–the directions said the license plate should be “warm and dry,” in February no less–cleaned it with the paper towel, and carefully applied the new sticker over the old. (Well, that was easy, even in the almost-dark!)
Then I walked out to the middle of the road, taking in the moonlit vista. There were low, misty clouds over Picuris Peak extending southwest toward the Jemez Mountains, and more low clouds to the east. I could see for miles in the indigo-tinted night and couldn’t believe I wasn’t cold. To reward myself for being such a kick-ass husband in our hour of need, I unbuttoned and let loose a good long stream, melting a jagged, steaming yellow hole in the hard-packed snow.
Somewhere in the near distance, a dog was barking. The road was mine now, you bastards, I thought to myself. The sky of course belonged to God, because I couldn’t reach that far…
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and who knows, by marking your territory that way maybe it’ll karmically keep away that jerkoff fucktard who stole your taillight!
Isn’t that crazy, to steal a part that only costs 20 bucks?!?
Hell, I’ll try anything, even pissing in the road.
the thing that always gets me about such incidents is not only the crazy/stupid aspect of stealing something like that for whatever reason, but also the territorial transgression, that innate primate-brain level response of “FUCK YOU FOR INVADING MY SPACE ASSHOLE!!!!”
some months back someone stole the nice ornamental address sign we had by our driveway, most likely for the metal. my natural reaction to this was, of course, “…..the FUCK??!?!?!” (it’s become a huge problem around the Bay Area, and elsewhere i’m sure, of people stealing infrastructure metals to sell for cash. recently various UC campuses have had to deal with people coming in and literally dismantling the restrooms to steal the brass and copper piping to sell on the black market.)
but considering what the economy, and society in general, is like these days, we shouldn’t be surprised. scarcity breeds desperation, and that’s when all those tightly woven threads that hold civilization together begin to unravel.
so it goes…..
I mark my territory almost every day. I don’t know why it should, but it feels soooo good.
I have a cousin who is a Texas State Trooper and was formerly assigned to the Governor’s Security Detail when George W. was Texas Governor. He said George CONSTANTLY set off the Alarm system by sneaking out the back door of the mansion to pee off the patio…..HA….No matter what you think of George, you gotta laugh picturing that in your mind…..and what does my cousin say to the Governor/Prez….”cut that out, sir” ?!? Whatever….just sharing….
Steve in Okiehoma