[Hey, You!] Half-Cocked

You were the college-educated idiot sitting on the balcony of the apartment building across the street from mine, shooting your pellet gun at the tree in the front yard while your friend stood right next to it, beer in hand, helping you adjust your scope. I didn’t call the cops on you because I honestly hoped your aim was bad enough you’d shoot him in the shoulder or leg—nothing fatal, mind you, but maybe a little flesh wound.

However, after your foolish friend waltzed off to get another beer, you reloaded and continued to fire. You saw me stand up and walk toward you, shaking my head, and you slunk back inside. What you didn’t know was that just around the corner of your building, a little girl had run out to play in the grass. But when she heard the bang, she ran away, terrified at the loud crack. I’m grateful this story ended with you crawling back into your cave, possibly aware that your neighbors think you’re a total fucking loser. Thanks for getting the message.

Matt Bors

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to “Hey, You!” c/o OC Weekly, 2975 Red Hill Ave., Ste. 150, Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.

 
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