Thursday, May 1, 2008

The Stop Sign



This may or may not be the scene of a crime that may or may not have been committed. But know this: No stop signs were harmed in the making of this post.

One of the first Halloweens where I was too old to trick or treat was the saddest day of my life because I love candy, and free candy is even better. OK, not really on the sad part. But really on the candy part.

That particular Halloween I could not and would not accept that I had to sit by idly while every one else had the fun. (Where fun was defined as anything besides the infinite stretch of Nothingness there was to do.) So, my friend Alda and I decided we were going to participate in the only way we knew how: focus on the trick part of trick-or-treating. (At the risk of repeating myself, there is absolutely nothing to do in Mathews. Except cut grass.)

Alda was nothing short of a genius at planning such activities. I readily and gladly accepted the role of sidekick, which in this instance meant that I would be driving the getaway car. (STOP EVERYTHING: Now that I am re-living this incident, I realize that I must have been 15 or 16 if I was driving. Well, that's not exactly true, since I learned to drive when I was about 11...Did I mention there's not much to do around here?)

The plan was really quite simple: We'd steal a stop sign and then go toilet paper our teacher's house. That's the first thing YOU'D do, isn't it? Right. We left at dusk, so there'd be enough light to fulfill our mission and yet just dark enough to work in stealth mode.

The particular vehicle we were using was my parents' VW bus that had a faulty horn. By faulty I mean that out of the blue, even if the driver's hands were tied behind her back and she wore a straight jacket, blindfold and were encased in a tomb, that horn would honk. By itself. A very distinct honk. A VW honk.

We decided to tackle the stop sign first. We drove to the end of my lane where the road intersected one of the Two Major Highways in Mathews, Route 198. I pulled the bus to the side, right in front of the sign. We waited until there were no cars coming. Alda got out and began pulling and tugging. She pushed, she heaved, she wrapped herself around that sign and began to make some progress, when all of a sudden----HONK!! HONK!! HONK!! HONK!!--- That VW bus decided right then and there it was going to participate in our venture and BLOW OUR COVER. We began to panic. We could NOT draw attention to ourselves. (After all, isn't a stop sign state property or something?) Undeterred, she continued to tug, and the horn continued to honk in synch with her moves like the accompanying orchestra for a ballet. And, while Alda was putting some creative moves on that stop sign, this GRAND THEFT OF STATE PROPERTY was hardly a ballet.

Due to the absolute horror of potentially being discovered thanks to that VW bus, and the impending INCARCERATION that likely would follow, I don't even remember if we ever did get that sign out of the ground. I do know that we laughed until we couldn't breathe, while adrenaline coursed through our veins with all the speed of Niagara Falls.

Then, with all the reckless abandon and glee of IDIOT SAVANTS TURNED LOOSE IN A CANDY STORE, we toilet-papered our math teacher, Mr. Brown's, house. (I'm sorry, Mr. Brown.) We definitely made up for our first botched mission.

Stupid VW bus.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm not sure if these two incidents are related....but I remember when we (I am the sister of the blog author) had gotten a STOP sign off of the post at the end of the lane and we were afraid that Mamma would get mad at us, so we threw it in the bushes. A few days later, Mamma walked in the house and said, "Look what I found at the end of the lane?" I was terrified, but she said she thought it would be cool in our room?? Or something like that....THis may have taken place after CBW went off to college and I was driving the next VW van that Daddy brought home.

foolery said...

Omigosh -- you had a car with the Spontaneous Honking Horn option TOO?! I swear I am not making this up, but we just got rid of ours about three years ago! It was my parents' 1986 Cadillac Sedan DeVille, which they kindly gave to us when they bought a new car, and the trade-in value was something like $1.67. Yes, it developed the SHH option as we drove along the L.A. freeways, kids in the back, just PRAYING there were no irritated gang members with itchy trigger fingers in the vicinity.

Great story, but did your sister ever end up with a stop sign on her wall?

:)

Chesapeake Bay Woman said...

Anonymous Sister: HA!!!!! I do recall another stop sign incident, and in fact we DID have that thing proudly displayed in our room or the basement or somewhere.

Don't remind me of That Other VW our father brought home, the Vanagon....AKA Space Mobile Intended To Embarass Teenagers in the Car Pool Line....

Chesapeake Bay Woman said...

Foolery, I cannot believe you had another such vehicle, but I am somewhat relieved because I thought nobody would believe me.

And yes, Sister is correct, we did have a stop sign in our room.

kaffy said...

But did that Stop sign in your room STOP you from doing naughty and/or unsavory things? Somehow I doubt it. In the movie Little Miss Sunshine (titled after you sis?? ha ah), the family's ancient VW van had the SHH syndrome. Very funny, quirky movie...one of mine and my kid's favorites, mainly because the son in the movie is a sullen, black-wearing, rebellious teenager who refuses to speak. I hope that's not what I have to look forward to in a few years...
CBW, your post was excellent, as usual. Write on.

tj said...

...lol...I gotta visual of a girl and the stop sign! lol... Do you still see Alda?

...Holy cow, I had an art teacher named Mr. Brown! Now that I think about it, isn't that kind of a standardized name for male teachers?

...And 'kaffy', CBW doing naughty unsavories? Why I abhor the thought! Oh my...(tsk, tsk)lol...

...Great story as always - keep writing my dear...

...Blessings... :o

Chesapeake Bay Woman said...

tj, I talk to Alda frequently and it's the same as when we were five years old every time we talk. Well, our vocabulary has expanded, but our maturity really hasn't.

I've been having problems commenting on your blog...there is either something wrong with me or with the site. Very likely me!