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My pops comes and picks me up from college after my sophomore year. We have a car full of shit, full to the point of having the tires rub the wheel wells. He is putting along at 60-65mph in a 65 and actually starts passing someone when a car buzzes up on us at probably 80mph. My Pops is in no real hurry to get around, one of those responsible senile drivers and passes the car over the period of about 1/2 a mile. He gets back over in the driving lane and this car pulls up next to us with 4 teenagers in it and the one in rear window is flicking us off. So, I throw both of my fingers in the air with a huge smile on my face and the driver of the car slams on the brakes in front of my Pops. My Pops locks up the brakes and about 30lbs of shit that was once in the rear seat has now made it up and over the head rests grazing our heads on the way to the wind shield. I was in a state of shock when I look over at my Pops who looks like he is going to have an aneurism. In the period of seconds we go from 4th gear and 30mph to 2nd gear, approaching 60mph. He tells me to reach in back and spin the bristles off the broom stick. I look over at him with an expression that made him give me that Drill Sergeant look. I reach back pull the broom over and by the time I have the stick free of the bristles we are getting even with the car in the passing lane. He tells me, "roll the window down and try to either take off the rear view mirror or break a window." This was the first time my Pops had ever instigated me to destroy anything. So as we pull even, and I roll the window down and begin positioning myself for best leverage, I look out and see the face of these 16 year olds who have a look of terror on their faces, but what do I care, I am only 19 and being instigated by my parent, so I start swinging. Before I can do any real damage, they have slammed on their brakes and have pulled over to the side of the road. I pull my self back in the car kind of reminiscent of Federal mail crimes wearing this huge smile on my face. We get about 5 miles home and my Pops leans over and says, "Mom doesn't need to know anything about this, ok." I smile and say, "No sweat Pops."
My pops comes and picks me up from college after my sophomore year. We have a car full of shit, full to the point of having the tires rub the wheel wells. He is putting along at 60-65mph in a 65 and actually starts passing someone when a car buzzes up on us at probably 80mph. My Pops is in no real hurry to get around, one of those responsible senile drivers and passes the car over the period of about 1/2 a mile. He gets back over in the driving lane and this car pulls up next to us with 4 teenagers in it and the one in rear window is flicking us off. So, I throw both of my fingers in the air with a huge smile on my face and the driver of the car slams on the brakes in front of my Pops. My Pops locks up the brakes and about 30lbs of shit that was once in the rear seat has now made it up and over the head rests grazing our heads on the way to the wind shield. I was in a state of shock when I look over at my Pops who looks like he is going to have an aneurism. In the period of seconds we go from 4th gear and 30mph to 2nd gear, approaching 60mph. He tells me to reach in back and spin the bristles off the broom stick. I look over at him with an expression that made him give me that Drill Sergeant look. I reach back pull the broom over and by the time I have the stick free of the bristles we are getting even with the car in the passing lane. He tells me, "roll the window down and try to either take off the rear view mirror or break a window." This was the first time my Pops had ever instigated me to destroy anything. So as we pull even, and I roll the window down and begin positioning myself for best leverage, I look out and see the face of these 16 year olds who have a look of terror on their faces, but what do I care, I am only 19 and being instigated by my parent, so I start swinging. Before I can do any real damage, they have slammed on their brakes and have pulled over to the side of the road. I pull my self back in the car kind of reminiscent of Federal mail crimes wearing this huge smile on my face. We get about 5 miles home and my Pops leans over and says, "Mom doesn't need to know anything about this, ok." I smile and say, "No sweat Pops."
