I got this thread idea from Leatherface. I told part of a personal story and he commented that it was "like a Hallmark Movie with the perfect ending." I decided to elaborate on it a little and invite others to tell their stories with perfect endings, that is, karma, when the bad guys actually got what was coming to them.
When I moved into my 'hood 15 years ago I met most of my neighbors at a block party and I remember like it was yesterday this one gal telling everyone that she wanted this neighborhood to be like the one that she grew up in, if they did anything wrong her parents would get a call and then she'd get her butt kicked. When I grew up it was the same way. We could deny the accusation all day long but if an adult took the time to pick up the phone and tell my mom that I had done crap then that was all the evidence that she needed, and of course she was right.
Years after that block party the gal's 17 year old son is tearing up the streets with his ricer car and I called her up. 'Oh, there's not much I can do about it. I can't wait for him to go to college so he's not a problem for me anymore.' So I confronted him myself. I explained to him that young children could be playing in the street (It's a dead end road, residential, area-wide 35mph) and that his driving around corners at 50mph with his buddy in hot pursuit could easily kill one of them. His response was that they shouldn't be playing in the street. I then told him that I had taken pictures of the rubber that he left taking the corner with measurements, and the Sheriff's office should easily be able to estimate the speed that he was traveling to leave that mark, and that would collaborate my eyewitness nicely, netting him a truly awesome fine, if not getting his driver's license taken away on the spot since that was more than 15 over.
His buddy driving the second car then stepped up and asked me that if he promised to drive slowly in the 'hood from now on, would I consider not reporting the incident at this time?' Unlike the neighbor kid, his friend seemed reasonable and genuine, so I agreed and went on my way.
An hour later the neighbor kid shows up at my door. I was upstairs in the bathroom and I hear him yelling at my wife at the front door. So I race downstairs and push him out of the doorway and into the front lawn. He was a big kid, my height and weight but no match for a 45 year old defending his house. I told him that if he came to my house again I'd defend it with equal or deadly force, and then escorted him to the curb.
Two days later on a Saturday morning I woke up to get the paper at the end of my driveway and found that my mailbox was destroyed and red spray paint with the words "(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)" on my concrete driveway, and more paint on some of my trees. So I called the Sheriff and a deputy met me within 5 minutes. I told him the entire story and showed him the rubber marks still there and so he went down the street to confront the kid. He came back later and told me that there were cars parked there and trash all over the front yard, 'looks like the parents aren't home and the kid had a party; they are obviously in the house but won't answer the door so there's not much he can do except keep watch on this kid'. And he knows the car, a red Mazda.
Two weeks later I learned that the county judge who is also a neighbor was on this case as well and had notified the Sheriff independently. I also learned that as a result, the Sheriff had set up speed traps randomly at the routes out of our neighborhood and the idiot kid got picked off several times. (I heard somewhere between three and six.) Another week went by and the Mazda was gone; I guess that his insurance rates had skyrocketed and he had to sell it. I saw him several times tooling past my house driving his mother's vintage VW bug, giving me the "finger" as he drove by revving the massive 60HP air-cooled motor.
It was around that time that I began to find his mom's cigarette butts on the end of my driveway and lawn, about four of five per week.
Two years later I was in a local restaurant having lunch with a business associate and his mom was there, and she stopped me as I was walking past her table. She gave me a smirky smile and then said, 'you remember my son, don't you?', and elbowed him to stand up. Now 19, he was about 4" taller and maybe 60-70# heavier than I, and he said 'I hope you have your deadly force with you now' and I told him that 'Maybe I do, maybe I don't. How are you doing in college?' He didn't have response to that and I walked out the restaurant.
Around that time one of my other neighbors confronted him about some other issue by ringing the house door bell and the kid pushed him down the stairs and off the property. He told me 'that kids a (*)(*)(*)(*) menace' and I told him that he should simply call the Sheriff next time because they know all about him.
Five years after the initial incident I read his obituary in the local paper. No college graduation was mentioned, but that he worked at a local warehouse. I learned through other means that he got killed when his forklift rolled on him.
To this day his mother still tosses her butts on my driveway. I suspect she'll get lung cancer sometime in the future.
Sometimes you get to see justice in your lifetime. The boy who terrorized me from age 10, finally ended up the same way. Though I morn any death, I will never get back those years of abject fear. I couldn't walk anywhere in the neighborhood alone, and I never told anyone why.
Originally Posted by Southern Man
The story is even more grand when fully penned. Gosh oh golly, I wish I had something as delish to share with the class, but the best I can conjure at the moment is laughing my ass off at the high school stud(and an arrogant one) I ran into years later after I myself outgrew my "awkward" phase when we found each other in the same night club, me with a chick who could have been a runway model(but with brains) and Ole Slick McDoosh drinking by hisownfatself at the bar. I waved a hearty hello to him as I squeezed my date's wasp waist.
Glory be. Amen.
Oh gosh that reminds me of another one. When I was in elementary school I hard the gift of barbed tongue, and I didn't take crap from anyone, especially the bullies. This one kid was a full foot taller than I, two years older and bent on kicking my skinny ass, but I was quick, and he never managed to get close during the two 15-minute recess periods, except to hear my taunting voice responding to his.
Originally Posted by Gaymom
So one day he followed me home from school.
This was an old town with a dense neighborhoods and sidewalks on both sides of nearly every street. As soon as we got past the crossing guard in front of the school I took off like a shot, got 20 yards on him then settled into a rhythm. I'd look back once in a while and slow as necessary to keep him interested. This went on for about 8 blocks then I took a quick right into a side street, keeping on the sidewalk.
He lived in a different 'hood so was unfamiliar with the territory. It has rained earlier in the day so I knew the grass would be slick. As expected the dude cuts the corner and cuts my lead to ten yards. But now his sneakers are wet. Buoyed by his quick gain he accelerates to full speed and I let him gain another 5 yards before I shift my legs into overdrive. I can now hear his breathe and he's so close that he can't see what's in front of me. I run straight at a thorn bush that is located adjacent to the sidewalk and do a quick turn right at it to avoid it.
Completely taken by surprise the bully sees the bush appear in front of him and tries to stop. With his wet sneakers he has no hope of stopping and he slides right into and under it, hopelessly tangled and getting cut with every thrashing movement of his arms, legs and face.
I hear the screams so I slow down and do a wide 180 degree turn, crossing the street and end up on the opposite sidewalk right across from him, enjoying the show. He looks over at me and I point at him let out a belly laugh as loud as I can. Then I jog away, and take a circuitous route the rest of the way home, nearly pissing my pants from the fear, adrenaline and joy.
Isn't it funny how that happens?
Originally Posted by Leatherface
When I was a junior in high school this freshman girl shows up and she is absolutely stunning. Even the senior boys wanted to ask her out, and several did. It seemed like she had a new one every month or so. Skinny, zit-faced, non-baseball or football player me with my rustbucket old car didn't stand a chance.
Twelve years later I met her at small party at my kid sister's house (they were the same age). I had my beautiful wife with me that I met in college. The stunner was not so much anymore, in fact she looked like something the cat dragged in. Her teeth were horrible, skin like sour paste, and a completely uninteresting body. Even her once-beautiful blond hair was a mess. Never known for her brains, she worked some menial job and her husband was a construction laborer. I remembered him from high school, back then he looked like a young Sylvester Stallone, and he was second or third string on the football team. He looked like crap as well.
As I remember there were four or five couples, one was an old girlfriend of mine and her husband. She looked great and her husband had this deadpan humor that only half the party got; a wonderful man and I thought he was an awesome match for her.
As I recall we played some kind of board game like trivial pursuit and Stunner and Sylvester had a hard time keeping up, But they sure drank a lot.
Class reunions are great payback times. I went last year at age 59, and looked much,much better than the "cheerleaders" from high school who had tanned their skin to shoe leather, and bleached their hair to straw. The little bookworm triumphed!!!
Originally Posted by Southern Man
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