Confession Time:

Hello.

My name is Shannon and when I was an early teen, I, too, succumbed to the pressure of using spray paint in a less than law abiding way.

Here is my story.

When I was fifteen, I already had my muscle car sitting in the driveway. I had the keys too. I was allowed to crank it up and let it run for twenty or thirty minutes every week. NOT drive it mind you, just crank it up...

Note to parents: No matter how responsible your child is, NEVER leave keys to a car (especially a car they LOVE) with a teenager before they get their license. The pressure, the pull - it's just too great for impressionable minds heh heh.

Mother worked full time, so when she wasn't home, that car would just beg me to get in it and not just sit there, but DRIVE. EMBRACE THE FREEDOM it would scream...

We lived on a VERY steep hill....practically straight up. Mother had backed the car up the drive and put it at the very top. Her reasoning was, the daughter was only 15 and there was NO WAY she could back the car up that driveway and get it in the exact same position. If the car moved, she'd know. If the yard was used to turn around, it'd leave tire marks, she'd know. The only way to get it in that position was to back it up that monster of a driveway.

She didn't count on two things. One, that daughter was conniving when it came to being in the car. She planned. She marked where the back tires sat with chalk to make sure the tires were put back into the exact same place. Two, daughter was a natural driver and could back that car up Everest if necessary. The car was taken out on several joy rides with the Mother none the wiser. That is, until one day an APB was put out on the car. The car that should not have moved having been backed up a driveway that no teen could replicate.

Confession time:

That day, a friend of mine and I got a wild hair and thought it would be fun to get in my car with a can of black spray paint. We'd drive across town and spray paint our initials on two stop signs near a friend's house. At no time during the drive did my friend or I have a moment of clarity and change our minds. Never mind that it was NOON and broad daylight. Never mind that I had already purchased a personalized tag for my old muscle car that only had THREE letters (my initials) and EASY to write down lol. Never mind that I was only 15, only had a permit and wasn't suppose to be driving without a licensed adult in the car. Nope, we thought this was going to be so funny...we laughed all the way there and all the way back to my house after the deed was done. We laughed until my Mother drove up unexpectedly - several hours before she was to get off work. My mother NEVER called in sick, she never left early from work. EVER. I knew when I heard her car pulling up the drive that my life, as I had known it, was O-VER.

Seems that someone witnessed our painting escapade and called the police. The police in turn put out a bulletin to all patrolmen to be on the lookout for a black Trans-Am, with such and such license plate, registered in my Mother's name...yes, Mother's name was broadcast all over town where every policeman and hick with a scanner could hear.

Our mechanic and family friend knew the car, the tag and, of course, Mother. He had heard the radio call over his scanner in his shop and called Mother at work to tell her the police were looking for her car. I can still imagine my Mother's head exploding as she heard the news...(shudder)

To make matters worse, my step-father was the city prosecutor at the time. Of course I had no idea what this was or what it meant at the time. However, I soon found out (thanks to my screaming, ranting Mother) that my little escapade was a HUGE embarrassment for my Mother who had to go to shoulder rubbing dinners and such with the WHOLE TOWN knowing her daughter vandalized CITY PROPERTY!!!!!

I didn't realize at the time that since my step-father was city prosecutor and friends with the police chief, that he just made a phone call and took care of it. Although Mother wanted me and my buddy to have to sit in a cell for a few hours, step-father's even tempered, calm demeanor said that wasn't necessary. He'd assured the police chief that we'd clean up the stop signs and have it done before we were to be in his office the following morning. The police chief would then take the floor and scare the royal crap out of us...

That evening, my friend's Mom took us to Wal-Mart where we bought several bottles of fingernail polish remover, two plastic scrub brushes and a bucket. She then took us back to the scene of the crime, where we had to take turns standing on each other's shoulders to reach the signs and be able to put enough elbow grease behind the brush to get our painted initials off the signs. One sign was really tall - and on a slope. I can firmly attest to the fact it was much easier to paint the sign than it was to clean it off. My friend and I never thought when we were learning to "climb" in cheerleading to build pyramids that it'd come in handy one day and help get our rears out of trouble lol. Being able to stand on shoulders came in handy that night - let me tell you.

The next morning we were in the Chief's office, apologizing for what we'd done and promising we would NEVER do anything like that again. He said he was keeping our names and if at any point between that day and our 18th birthdays, our names crossed his desk again, not only would we be in trouble for whatever we'd done, he'd also make sure that we were prosecuted for destruction of city property too. And, just to assure that I NEVER EVER thought of doing anything stupid again, he said if I got in trouble again before I turned sixteen, he'd personally see to it that I was not allowed to get my license when I did turn sixteen and instead, have to wait until I was 18. THAT. RIGHT. THERE. was enough to scare me straight...I was living, breathing, eating and sleeping Trans-Am and dreaming of finally getting to drive. I was counting down the months, days and hours until I could get my license. Not be able to get my license until 18??! Oh, life would end for me if that were to happen. END I tell you!

We were escorted out of his office while step-father stayed behind with the door closed. I can only imagine the laughs they had - and probably had a bet on how long into the meeting it would be until the Chief could make us cry heh heh. Next time I call home, I'll have to ask step-father what was discussed behind that closed door lol. After all these years, I'd really like to know.

Needless to say, I NEVER EVER got into any kind of trouble again.

And, it's probably the main reason why my heart broke when I saw those two scared young'uns on my porch fighting tears and trying to do anything possible to fix their lapse in judgment. I could empathize. I'd been right where they are some 20 (or so) years ago. My experience was enough to scare me straight and leave no questions as to the fact I was just not cut out for a life of crime lol. Hopefully their experience will be very similar.

posted by Shannon at 6:20 AM   |    |  

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