Yesterday afternoon, I was in my front yard digging out a snow fort for my son to play in. My wife was inside helping him into his snowsuit.
Two guys in their late teens walked past my house smoking a joint, stopped briefly, and turned around to walk back towards their place. Basically, they were going for a walk to burn one and heading straight home. Wouldn’t smoke a joint in front of your house? Don’t smoke it in front of mine.
Me: Seriously guys? Right here? On the sidewalk in front of my house?
Them: Yeah. <what are you gonna do about it shrug>
Pit #1a: I have nothing against pot smoking, as long as you do it in private. If you wouldn’t drink a beer walking down the street, it’s not okay to smoke a joint. Do it in your house, or walk the extra five minutes to the woods at the end of the street.
Pit #1b: When someone calls you on it, at least give a half-assed sorry, and/or put the joint out.
At this point, I was a little frustrated with the overt pot smoking, and the response I received when I expressed my displeasure. As a result, a shovelfull of snow may or may not have been directed at them, and may or may not have hit them.
Them: You want a piece of this?
Me: <standing atop an 8 foot snowbank with a shovel in hand> I’d love a piece. Bring it on over here.
Them: Mumble mumble mumble <walks away>
Pit #2: In my efforts to shield my young son from exposure to drug use, I almost exposed him aggressive, threatening, and potentially violent behaviour. Shame on me.
Thankfully he and his Mom came out a few minutes later, and were not witness to my childishness.
But man it felt good to rain frozen justice upon those punks.