I hope you know that this will go down in your permanent record...
Today's Lyrical Challenge from Karl. The song is "Kiss Off" from the Violent Femmes.
Have you ever seen that episode of The Wonder Years where Kevin (Fred Savage) and his friends teepee their teacher? They did a number to his house. I can still remember the slow-motion sequence where they're practically dancing about in his yard tossing up roll after roll of toilet paper into his trees. When all was said and done, the teacher's house appeared as though it had suffered a mid-spring snowstorm. Everything was blanketed in pure white. It was a sight to behold.
As was my friend's house our senior year of high school.
There were a bunch of us who got together on a semi-regular basis to teepee the houses of people we knew. No one was safe from our wrath, except us. We would camp out in the backyard of one guy's house and plot everything out to perfection. We knew where to get the toilet paper, how we would transport everyone and everything, and exactly what route to use to escape. Oh, we had backup routes as well. I'm sure, if one of cars failed, we even had a backup plan for that. "Stormin'" Norman Schwarzkopf would've been proud.
One night, however, one of the regular crew, B, was unable to make it to one of our white-papered frenzies. I'm not exactly sure what he was doing, but he was out of town entirely.
We sat in the tents in my friend's backyard debating who we would hit that night. Then it came to us... B! He would pay for not being there to assist us.
The six of us headed out to the local Omni Supermarket as they were the only ones who sold toilet paper in bulk. We knew that people were watching us as we pulled that cardboard carton of approximately 80 rolls of toilet paper down from the shelf. They knew what the three of us were doing. But they couldn't prove it.
In case you're wondering what happened to the other three of us (yes, I did say "six" of us headed to Omni), I'll tell you. To avoid arousing too much suspicion, the remaining three of us went in for a second case of 80 rolls a few minutes after the first crew finished their purchase.
No, for this assault, 80 rolls would not nearly be enough. We were going all out, cost be damned.
On the drive over, we began to divvy up the rolls. Some of us carried duffel bags or backpacks full. The others carried them in their arms. We parked a couple streets away and traversed the unfenced yards to B's house (yes, we even knew which yards had no fences so as to make travel that much quicker).
Then we went to town.
After about five minutes, we noticed a car heading down the street.
We all immediately tore off to our predetermined hiding places in the neighborhood.
I sat in wait behind some stalks in a cornfield at the deadend in my friend's street.
The car pulled up by B's house.
Damn!
The car stopped.
Hell!
People got out.
SHIT!
The thing you must understand is that the police in the town where I grew up had a law that people busted for teepeeing a house or other establishment were charged a per-roll fine. And we had left all our supplies behind (save for our bags) in an attempt to expedite our escape.
I don't remember what the fine amount was. But I was convinced these people were either off-duty cops or neighbors that would be more than willing to blow the whistle on us for the sake of their neighborhood.
I tried to calculate how much this would cost us if we were caught. I also wondered whether fingerprints could be lifted from toilet paper. I didn't know for sure the answer to either question. I didn't much care, either. Our asses were grass no matter how you looked at it.
They each started to pick up rolls of toilet paper. Oh hell, they were beginning their tally.
That's when it happened... instead of collecting the rolls, they began to throw them into the trees. My friend J and I looked at each other. Then we slowly made our way out of the cornfield and over to the house.
It was four more of our friends who said they weren't going to be able to make it that night. They only teepee'd with us on occasion. Hence why we didn't hit their place instead of B's.
With ten of us present, we spent another 10-15 minutes finishing the job. Some of us were in the backyard and some in the front passing rolls over the house like kids playing catch with a football. We hoisted two of the smaller guys onto the roof to wrap the chimney and drop rolls down it into the fireplace (it was too warm outside for a fire to be going, so don't worry). When all was said and done, the once grey house was white, the green and brown trees were white, the black roof shingles were white, the brown brick chimney was white.
And we ran.
I never admitted this to my friend until nearly a decade later. I'm sure I'll pay for it eventually.
This is the final installment in the kapgar lyrical challenge. Today's post, suggested by Karl, was the second highest vote getter with six.
Such organised criminal activity... Just think if you had continud down that vein you could be running your own crew - Mafia style, having everyone running up to you and calling you 'Boss' or 'Skip'. I thought things like this only happened in TV shows... brilliant.
Posted by: Bec | Thursday, 21 September 2006 at 05:40 PM
I've never t-p'd a house in my entire life. EVER. I don't recall ever being invited to go along. Maybe because they'd seen me "throw" a softball in gym ...
Posted by: SJ | Thursday, 21 September 2006 at 09:58 PM
TP'ing was so much fun. We had a few close calls like you did but amazingly never got caught. Well, I take that back. We got chased through the streets of Olympia late one night after stealing a street sign but it turned out that we were being chased because they were on their way to steal it themselves and we had beat them to it. We found this out after running into the same guys at Denny's later that night. Luckily, they found another sign just like it that we didn't know existed so everything was cool.
Posted by: Brandon | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 01:33 AM
*sniff sniff* I bet it was truly a beautiful thing to see. Brings back memories.
Posted by: Shannon | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 02:18 AM
Bec, you didn't know that I'm the Don of the Fourth Street TPers? We're hardcore.
SJ, never? Oh you missed out.
Brandon, hey, we stole street signs, too! In fact, my friend (the same one we teepee'd) had been bugged for years by his mom after he moved out to clear the signs out of their garage. There were many.
Shannon, sounds like a potential blog story. You must now tell. Unless it will incriminate you.
Posted by: kapgar | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 06:41 AM
You're a bad, bad boy.
Posted by: Dagny | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 08:54 AM
i love that you said "our asses were grass"- takes me back! ;)
Posted by: ms. sizzle | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 10:59 AM
This T-P thing is one of those "typical dumb/crazy American events" we'd see only via tv/movies - we'd shake our heads at the sheer waste of toilet paper, and at the delinquency of American youth... but deep inside we all probably really really really wanted to be able to do something like that ourselves! Ah, what fun, growing up repressed in Malaysia!! :-)
Posted by: *lynne* | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 11:01 AM
Dagny, they tell me.
Sizzle, how bad a flashback would you have had if I kept in the "and the cops were the lawnmowers"?
lynne, you know you're jealous. :-P
Posted by: kapgar | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 11:41 AM
Ha! Great story to match up with those lyrics. We used to TP people's cars in the winter and then spray them down with water so it'd freeze up. Nasty little shits, we were.
Posted by: Karl | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 12:45 PM
We've done whip/shaving cream before as well. We've also forked a lawn. Katie has reflectered one as well.
Posted by: kapgar | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 01:31 PM
This is why you're still on Green Peace's Top 10 Most Wanted list.
Some where a forest is weeping.
Posted by: Dustin | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 02:05 PM
You're the first person I know of who's actually done this, or the 1st to say so anyway. It was more about illegal fireworks, stealing signs, and shooting out street lights where I grew up.
Posted by: claire | Friday, 22 September 2006 at 07:45 PM
Have you ever had to clean the mess up? It's the most terrible, gosh-awful job ever. I know because I helped a friend who's house had been "hit" by his so-called friends. That's how it worked where I grew up: Boys papered the homes of their buddies, especially on special occasions, like birthdays, or the night before "the big game." And some of the parents' way of dealing with that was, if you were a teenage boy, and your house got "hit," then since your "friends" were most assuredly the culprits, YOU were put on notice that YOU would be cleaning it all up. This put the onus for crime-prevention on the teen resident of the home.
I guess the thrill of it might be fun, but even as a teenager, I always just felt AWFUL for the innocent people out the next day having to deal with the consequences. Especially the time, on my way to school, that I saw an older man, leaning on a cane, trying his best to deal with the mess, one handful at a time, and only as high as he could reach. And if it had rained in the meantime...oh, it was just awful.
Posted by: Belinda | Saturday, 23 September 2006 at 12:06 AM
Dustin, still on it? Pray tell how I got on it in the first place. I need this story. ;-)
Claire, I doubt I'm the first. I'm sure it's just a matter of fessing up. And the only reason I did admit it is because my friend already knows. If he didn't, I would've been telling an entirely different story here.
Belinda, oh yes I have had to clean it up. Hence why many of those people were our early targets. Revenge is sweet.
Posted by: kapgar | Saturday, 23 September 2006 at 06:45 AM