This is Betty, one of Paul's business town cars...
When I got over the initial shock that someone with nothing better to do on a Friday night happened to stop at my house and chose my husband's shiny black car, as the canvas on which to vomit vulgarity in silver spray paint, I was bummed, then angry.
"Why would one do this? HONESTLY. Who is the despicable jackass who has such little regard for others, no bearing outside of himself, no concept of submission, reverence, consideration or even a shred of common decency? HONESTLY?!?! Who is the arrogant coward who has the audacity to behave so maliciously or perhaps flippantly, in either case, SO disrespectfully?"
Whoever he or she or they may have been weren't considering my husband, my children, my neighbors or me. They weren't considering the fact that this was one of the first Saturdays in months that my husband didn't have to work - that he actually got to relax a little and sleep in - that we made plans to spend the day as a family. There was no regard for the fact that this car is literally a vehicle by which we put food on our table, clothes on our backs and that this unexpected expense is not really one for which we have extra time, room, resource or energy. He or she or they never stopped to think that this "good time" would rob peace from my neighbor's sunny Saturday morning as she shook her head in disbelief pondering - even if just for a moment - the safety and security of our neighborhood. Or did he or she or they think of how it might pierce my husband's heart - even just for a moment - to have "f*** you" be some of the first words written into his life this morning... or how it would break my heart to see a seed of sadness in the eyes of this man I adore when he asked me, "What did I do?"... or how my daughter would experience genuine disappointment as her daddy was heading out the door and she said, "I thought you were going to have breakfast with us today, Dadda."
Well, whoever you are, in spite of your disregard for me, for my family, for my neighbor, for my neighborhood, for my day, for my property (I could go on)... I'm done with you, and I'm moving on.
We're over it, and we're over you.
The paint will come off, your worthless words will be washed away and your miserable life will continue apart from ours. This post is almost over, which means that you are an all-but-forgotten blip on our radar. You will not steal another precious moment from any of us.
I'm going to go enjoy the rest of the day with my family.