New a-hole in a peaceful neighborhood learns his lesson.
So I live in a quiet little town in the Midwestern United States. My house is the last house at the end of a sleepy little dead-end road. New guy moves in next door, let’s call him “D*ck”. D*ck was probably one of those guys who was so popular in high school that he thought he had it made without doing any work and tried to spend the rest of his life living off being the “cool guy”. Type of guy who drives a lifted truck and a motorcycle. (Don’t get me wrong, I ride motorcycles myself. What I don’t do, is sit in my driveway at 2 AM and rev my engine.)
There’s a bit of a downhill slope from the middle of the street to our houses at the end, and D*ck likes to race down this hill, then lock his brakes and “drift” into his driveway. The first winter after he moved in, I notice that my mailbox has been crushed and there’s fresh tire tracks in the snow leading down the street, over my mailbox, and into his driveway. A few days later I see D*ck standing outside and ask about this. He denies the entire thing says he doesn’t know what happened to my mailbox and that it must’ve been a delivery guy or something. I figure whatever and fix my mailbox. A few months later the same thing happens again. I fixed my mailbox and move on. Sometime later, this happens yet again. This time, I’m pretty pissed.
So, I talked to my cousin who’s a commercial welder and had him make me a mailbox out of some scrap quarter-inch steel plate which was mounted on a length of old railroad track for its post. A little bit of glue and some cedar shingles and you’d never know it wasn’t a typical wooden mailbox. Also, the railroad track “post” was sunk in concrete four feet into the ground. For the next several weeks I waited with anticipation every time I heard his truck roaring down the street, but nothing. Until, about five months later when I heard his truck, then a crash.
By this time I had forgotten about my mailbox and thought for sure he’d struck another car. I ran out to the street to see if anyone needed help, and there was his truck broadside against my mailbox all smashed up. He saw me walk up and started yelling about how I had destroyed his truck and he’d make me pay, and he called the cops. A cop showed up to take his report and D*ck pointed out how my mailbox had been specifically designed to destroy his truck. I gotta admit, I got nervous at this point. The cop looked around at the truck and the construction of the mailbox then turned back to us and asked me if I’d had trouble with my mailbox before. I explained how it has been smashed several times in the past year. The cop then said “It’s pretty clear what happened here. This is an obvious case of wanton destruction of property.” My heart sunk to the ground and D*ck got a smug look on his face, but then cop turns to D*CK and says “I’m going to issue a citation for this, as well as reckless driving”. You should have seen D*cks face at this point. He was boiling with rage as the cop wrote him two tickets AND told him he needed to pay for the repair of the damaged wood on my mailbox. (The metal was fine, hadn’t even tilted it, but the wood camouflage had broken off)