Not Niceties ~or~ The Valentine’s Day Massacre

This past Valentine’s Day afternoon, my handsom son, Max, came in the studio to ask me if he could borrow the van, Huck, to run a quick errand.

“Okay, just be careful.”

Moments later, he was back.

“Um, Mom?”

Yes, I’m your mom! Why do they always have to ask?

“Someone spray painted all over the side of the van.”

“WHAT?”

“Yup, in pink, bright pink.”

I jumped up and ran outside to assess the damage, wondering if the insurance company would paint the whole thing because of a little bit of pink paint?

“OH, MY GOD!”

A “little” pink paint was a-whole-lotta pink paint all across the driver’s side. Very large fluorescent letters filled the purple space from top-to-bottom and extended the entire length of the vehicle. (Nice lettering, I might add—this person has practiced.)

But the message was very disturbing. It was not your typical Valentine’s Day love note. No sweet little hearts lovingly painted on either side of the text. No flowers left wedged in the wipers. Not even a cool hippie peace sign.

Then I get this story from Max…
Late the night before, Max’s girlfriend, the mouseketeer, went out on the porch to smoke a cigarette. She thought she saw, or heard, someone in the driveway, went in and told Max and his buddy, Keaton, who immediately ran outside. The interloper, a large dude who was hidden on the other side of the van, must have heard them coming and was already walking away when they got out there. Max shouted at him, but the guy ran down the block meeting up with four or five of his cronies.. and they were gone.

The smell of spray paint hung in the air, but they did not put two-and-two together till the evidence presented itself the next afternoon.

I wonder what else the creep might have done had he not been interrupted?

I immediately called the police. Officer Perez was very kind, and took the report over the phone. I guess this did not warrant public police appearance, which I would have preferred cause I don't want anyone to think I'm a weenie. Perhaps they'd have come if it had just happened?

I was told that to call back in 24 hours to get a case number to give to the insurance people.

He also suggested I try taking the writing off with a little paint thinner, and he said, sometimes cooking oil will work too. Worth a try.

I phoned my brother, Luckey, the painter. No he didn’t have any thinner (what’s with that?), but he’d see what he could do.

Gosh, I couldn't help but worry, How in the heck am I going to be able to drive Huck to the insurance people and/or to the auto body shop with that horrible, very noticeable and legible branding on the side?

Welp, to make this long story short. The van sat overnight again letting all that pretty paint set in, but first thing Sunday morning, brother Luckey got out a little TSP and scrubbed the pink paint off. Max put in his share of elbow grease by using rubbing compound to smooth out the abrasion, then did a great wax job.

When I went out to look, I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t even tell there was ever any damage done! WOW, good job, fellas! Huck is once again a clean canvas!

(Shhh… don’t say that!)

Naturally, I didn’t get any pictures. I figured that paint wasn’t going anywhere too fast. But it did and now, there’s no proof other than a bit of pink on the outlet cap. Not that I’d show you any pictures anyway (because it wasn’t nice, nor true). I can’t imagine who those words were aimed at or why?

Gee, I wonder if I would have been happier if it said, “Will You Marry Me?” or “Be My Valentine,” or some other such nonsense…. Naw.

So that was my Friday the 13th/Valentine’s Day debacle.

All’s well now. Thank you.

Maybe it really didn’t happen?

Hmmm.. ?