Log Entry No. 103: Did you really sign that Rental Agreement!

When you take that long awaited vacation to the beach, rent a 8 bedroom, 8 bathroom house, and take the extended family, you never, never, never should be the one to sign the rental agreement. Why? When something goes wrong… the owners and/or authorities are looking for you!

As usual, a great house… game room, hot tub, bars, home theater, and of course the ocean beach across the street. The week was filled with games, pranks, and mucho foolery. The group — parents, teens, and some smaller ones. It was not the group’s first rodeo, so they were warmed up before the week started, arriving in full-on mode!

Launch headquarters

Clearly without a lot of thought and bordering on bad judgment, someone packed a 200 yard water balloon launcher / slingshot for the beach trip. The launcher had many applications. The preferred location that offered the greatest strategic position was from the second story deck on the house. Very popular was harassing people returning from the beach on the public beach accesses. It was not popular with everyone, at time resulting in a variety of easily recognized hand motions and signs.

A target rich environment!

The family was three days into the beach week. It was late evening after 11 pm, still up were the under 30’s, teens, and a few others who were thought to be in bed. Three of them were on the upper deck in control of the launcher, with other onlookers. Across he street was ocean front row. The launch team could see, through a side window, two houses down, on ocean front row, an adult watching TV. Having fine-tuned their skill by this time in the week, they hit the window dead center on the first volley; the adult came straight up out of his chair. The window didn’t break. Of course they lost it, rolling around on the deck in a spasm of laughter, according to the onlookers. They did it again and missed. Not satisfied, they took aim at the house directly across the street and put a missile through the breakfast room picture window.

It is now 1 am, I am out cold, and there is a knock on my bedroom door, the message, “No one is hurt. The police would like to talk to you. They are on the front porch”. Just perfect! Why me? …because my name is on the rental agreement. Down two flights of stairs, I pass the three fools responsible for this in the entryway, ranging in age from 30 to 15. As I pass I promise, “I will find out who is responsible for this”. I join the cops outside, third shift professionals, carrying bullets in their shirt pocket. “No officers, I was sound asleep, I know nothing about slingshots or water balloons.” One of them holds up a spent missile, the other, using his flashlight, points out a disgusting collection, in various colors, of more spent balloons littering the walk, front yard, and street. It was over. The cops confiscated the launcher.

The “perps”: front row, last three on the left.

The next morning I sent the perps over to fess up, apologize, and offer to pay for the window. They returned later, said the people, also renters, were really nice, and offered them juice, coffee and donuts. What? The people said their kids were running around until all hours. They thought their kids did it.

Don’t sign the rental agreement, get some sleep!

***** S&E *****

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