I tried to be a vandal

[Taem]

When I was in my teen years, I went through a phase when I thought I was invincible.  I mouthed off to my parents and teachers, and I went around looking for trouble to get into.  Typical 16 year old boy stuff, I guess.

One Friday night, a buddy of mine procured his mom's Ford Escort for some late-night teen angst shenanigans.  We drove around town yelling at girls and ... yelling at girls.

We stopped at McDonald's for some food, and during the stop my Escort-driving friend went to get something or other from his trunk.

"Holy geez guys!  I forgot I had this in here!"

He came out waving a baseball bat.

For a bunch of teenaged troublemakers, this was a goldmine.  We hit the motherlode.  We had a car, a bunch of time on our hands, and a baseball bat.  You can guess what came next.

We decided that some mailbox baseball was in order.  For those unfamiliar with the rules of mailbox baseball, it basically involves hanging out of the window of a fast-moving car whilst deftly swinging a baseball bat at a mailbox, in a valiant attempt to smash said mailbox.  It's nonsensical vandalism, pure and simple.

We set out to find some stretch of semi-deserted country road with a whack of roadside mailboxes.  During the trip, we argued over who got to be the first to whack some mailboxes.  I somehow won the argument.

In short order, we found a suitable place for our retarded teen vandalism.  It was a tiny stretch of road a few minutes out of town.  It had some nice looking mailbox targets.  We rolled down the passenger side window and I propped myself up on it, waggling the bat in a VERY INTIMIDATING WAY!  Those mailboxes were in for a serious beatdown.

The driver gunned it.  I picked out my first target.

I waggled the bat.  The car picked up speed.  I zeroed in on the prize.  The mailbox drew closer.  I told myself, "whatever you do, don't miss".

I swung.  I missed.  My follow-through put a hefty dent in my friend's mom's Ford Escort.  Oh crap.

The driver didn't seem to notice the sound of his mom's car being dented, and I didn't tell him.  The sound was likely drowned out due to the hooting and hollering of the crazy teenagers.

I said, "I missed", and we drove on.

The next target came upon us quite quickly.  I readied the bat again, and was determined to hit my mark.  If I missed two mailboxes in a row, my buddies would have made fun of me.  I couldn't let that happen.  Y'know, 'cause I was 16 and stupid.

I lined up the mailbox.  I waggled the bat.  The car sped up even more.  The mailbox came closer and I swung with all my might!

I hit the mailbox dead-on!  The mailbox was a one-piece model with the box welded securely to the post, and set in concrete.  The baseball bat shattered into a million pieces.  My hands, arms, and most of my upper body aborbed a signifant portion of the impact.

The driver saw what happened and said, "Dude, you owe me a new bat"

I never played mailbox baseball again.
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LOL, nice story but don't expect sympathy. As adults, we've all been vandalized in one way or another and no matter how funny the story is, it's not funny when it happens to you.

I do wonder what reminded you of that part of your life, enough to post it at least? I have a lot of teen stories myself, but I'd be afraid for my life to post them.