About 35 years ago I used a paved road through an abandoned sub-division to get to my home, not a part of the subdivision.
Fishermen and bait sellers used the same road to collect bait out near our end of the road. Two more travelers began using a parking space, not quite as far out as the bait fields and not far off the travel portion for something other than catching bait.
If the growing collection of used rubbers, fast food wrappers, cups and fouled tissues mounding up around the place where the cars parked was any indication, it was no place for anyone of tender years, even just passing by.
One day one of the vehicles was parked there unoccupied and I got a tag number from the backed in vehicle. Time to report the littering. It had a FSBO sign in a window with a ph. no. I recorded and departed but got sidetracked when I got home. No call that day.
As had become their pattern,a couple of days later they were back fogging up the windows again. I went home, called the for sale number and asked the gal that answered if she had a car for sale and could I come see it. Not now, her husband was out running errands but would be back to 27 z st. In a couple of hours and I could see it later.
27 z St. Was not too far from the parking spot, yes she had a car and knew exactly where the parking spot I described was, why did I want to know.
Payback time! I explained that It was my routine to travel to gather bait with my young sons and I didn’t give a good God damn who her husband loaned the car to until it was sold but I thought it was pretty damn inconsiderate to expose my sons to those two naked people doing all that stuff where those two cars were parked all those times. Why didn’t they just give them enough money for a motel room.
I barely got the last part out for the sound of the crashing glass, probably off a wall near where the phone was. Between the screaming and glass shattering I suggested she go have a look if she didn’t believe me.
I shut off the fan, went out on the porch and waited, praying I didn’t hear a gunshot or car crash. I didn’t. The peepshow ceased, we policed a disgusting mass of refuse and continuing users found religion. An occasional beer can or Mc Donald’s wrapper, but we can live with that.
Payback’s a bitch!
circa; 1985