Are the candles really heating up my house?
I drove by a sign that read "Free Hits Until 2pm"....behind the sign was the near junkyard worthy Mercedes Benz. Still pretty nice though.
I was excited to see the sign...but I kept on cruising down the road. After too much hesitation, I glanced at my phone, it was 1:16 pm, free hits stopped at 2pm? I did a 180, stopped with a screech in front of the Mercedes, signed the waiver, and grabbed the sledge hammer. Earlier that day I would have never imagined this scene: me in the high desert plains in the outskirts of Santa Fe, wailing on the car, smashing bits of glass into smaller fancier bits that could be mistaken for diamonds. Pawn shop owners would have swooned over the mess. I dented the sides, the bumper, hammer bounced back occasionally to hit my shin gently, like a soft punch. I felt like a rebel, a demi god in someone else's daydream. It wasn't me out there, I was playing the role of the imposter. I was exorcising the demons locked in the seemingly perfectly molded Mercedes, it needed character, it needed some beauty marks. I was a reckless Dimitrious swaying hammer of a sailor in this nerd feast of near mythological glory. My adrenal glands were bleeding by the time I was finished. The car reciprocated with the rush of vibrating bliss. I was ready to do anything after that. I beat the crap out of that 1990 something Mercedes in the middle of the desert with some random lady watching. What's up with Santa Fe? Thank you for the spontaneous offering.
Moral of the story? Don't just drive past the sign. If you do pass the sign, grab your own sledge hammer, track down that car...and hit it at your convenience.
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