In Retrospect

In retrospect, I could have been nicer to the Boy Scouts of Troop 15. They may very well have mistaken the area around my bridge for a camp ground. Perhaps I to am partly to blame, I do freely admit to using a large KOA highway sign as a sun shade. This may well have played a part in the confusion leading up to the incidents of last night. I was quite unhappy at being disturbed late into my nightly drunk, and the destruction of my azaleas to make room for a latrine pit had me distraught. But this alone should not have warranted the punishment I handed out, I am not ashamed to put myself at fault. Regardless of weather or not they shredded up my cardboard blankets and roasted marshmallows over them, or opened my secret stash of whiskey and dumped it all on to the fire just to watch the pretty blue flames it produced, this alone was not enough to merit what happened to these unfortunate members of a most esteemed organization. For what it may be worth to the families, I’m sorry. I am not always this violent, normally I’m rather quiet and demure, and I’m not really sure why this incident occurred. Perhaps it was the marshmallow fight the boys had, in which I ended up with sticky gobs of them in my hair, even though I attempted to isolate my self in a far corner. Maybe it was the large “Troop 15 Rules” that one of the scouts carved into my prized teak guitar that pushed me over the edge. I may never know for sure. It is undeniable that young Scouts who through a homeless bridge dwellers clothes into the creek because they are board, or steal a pair of his ripped underwear and make fun of them as they hang them up on a tree branch should face some sort of punishment. But did the punishment fit the crime in this case? At the time I sure thought so, but at the time I was admittedly drunk, and some what irritated at the members of Troop 15 for carelessly setting my doorway drape on fire, skewering my tooth brush newt with a hot dog stick, singing off key camp songs for hours with out letup, and for stomping on my raccoon filled mattress bag just to tick it off, causing it to bite me when I attempted to lay down. Even through this laundry list of incidents though, I kept my temper admirably. That is until the annoying soccer mom Scout Leader bitch called me a frowny face, and issued me a time out for cursing at one of the boys who had just poked me in the eye while waving a fire ember stick in the air to watch the red trails it made. After that I guess I just snapped…………………

I have since made a mental note to try and check my temper should I ever face another such incident. I do not wish to hurt anyone. Sadly all this is in retrospect, which I’m sure provides little comfort to the families of Troop 15, whose rotting innards now decorate the local flora and fauna of this little stretch of Bear Creek.