I now know without even the slightest tinge of doubt which one of the little punks he is; how can I say this with such certainty, you wonder?…
It was like a little pick-me-up from one of the Gods or something: on Friday morning the kicker happened that added to my already strong suspicions of the culprit; and it came the sugary form good ol’ fashioned betrayal. The mother of a friend belonging to the little fuckhead who continues to mess with car (and anything in it, if he catches me slippin’ with my windows down) stopped by asking for some pomegranates at random; her teenager son in tow to carry whatever score she might leave with. During our backyard excursion, he totally gave up his best friend since second grade as being the ONE who is guilty of the ongoing blood-feud saga between the owner of the silver Passat and his buddy (likely thinking the car belonged to the neighbor of whom his mother and I were exchanging 12-point-turn horror stories about).
Now, these little scabs have always the audacity to knock on my door every year at Halloween with a huge group of the local mosh-pit/dropout/stoner/skateboarders in tow, despite their never-decreasing ages – and they are smart-asses and talk shit to me if I happen to answer the door, opposed to one of my male roommates opening it…me being me, of course, has NEVER made the situation any easier or left a even semi-palatable taste in any of their teenage dirt-bag mouths, no doubt.
“Wow, there’s a full-blown mob of you guys out there…how many of you are there?”
“Uhhhhh…we don’t know…heheheheheh…..”
None of yous can count that high can you…?”
I mean, they are just a bunch of kids – especially late blooming kids, apparently…but the absolute silence that followed their obnoxious sized group from my doorway and down the drive into the darkness last night – was unprecedented. 🙂