The Minivan Story
This is a true story about our minivan adventure. Names have been changed to protect the offenders. Pictures are just a representation from memory.
It was early summer of 2001, approximately mid-day, I had just finished my junior year of high school and just got my license. I had a day off of work so, as I often did, I decided to hang out with my friend Dill Simons. The sun was shining, and we were doing what typical asshole teenagers do, drive around in my minivan bothering people. But this day was different, something happened to me that has not happened before or since, I had a maniac hanging on the hood of my car…while driving. How does this happen? You ask. Well, lets start with a little bit of a background on Dill.
Dill was raised by loving parents who did their best at discipline, but it never really stuck. So of course the discipline got worse and he lashed out harder. Now, it was never beating, cursing, or any of the ways that I was disciplined, it was mostly grounding and loss of privileges. Not so bad, right? It didn’t help that Dill was kinda crazy… loud, obnoxious, maniacal, generally pretty annoying. I’m sure there is a variety of psychological problems going on there, but it basically caused his brain to not work when he thought something was funny. He was going to fucking say it, do it, or act out to get a reaction from someone…anyone, nearby.
Now that you have a background on Dill, let’s talk about our other guy. I don’t know his name, I never got it, so for the sake of our story his name is Redneck Randy. Randy was an older guy, 35-40ish, white wife beater, dirty jeans, pot belly, thick rimmed glasses, mustache and a full on dark mullet. He resembled a carnie, the kind that offer to bang your girl since the guy their with isn’t man enough to pop 35 balloons to win a medium sized stuffed animal, because they don’t have different sizes listed on the tags and you have to trade in smaller ones, forever.
So, Dill and I were sitting at McDonald’s, grabbing some lunch. Just hanging out, laughing, making jokes. Not about anyone or anything in particular, not swearing, or even being especially loud. This irritated Randy, possibly to a level he has never been irritated before, like he just found out his meth was simple shards of broken glass. The momentary joy from our conversation was more than Randy could handle. So, he walked past our table, extremely close, bumping into it, while staring at me. He literally walked past me, with eyes locked, turning his head like a fucking owl while shuffling up to the trash can. He aggressively shakes off his tray in the trash can while maintaining eye contact with me, furrowed unibrow and all. (It is worth noting that I have never seen Randy, spoke to him, or crossed paths with him at any point in the past) Naturally, I stop talking to Dill out loud and I quietly mumble under my breath “What the fuck is this guys deal?” Randy noticed I was saying something quietly and this sent him over the edge. He slams his tray down onto a stack of other trays, storms up to our table, steam coming out of his earholes and points with his finger about 2 inches from my nose, this didn’t sit right with Dill. Randy proceeds to scream at us at the top of his lungs, in a crowded McDonalds… “Hahaha motherfuckers, what’s so funny? You keep laughing, I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He barked it in such a way that you knew the intent was to strike fear in us, however, as I previously mentioned, we were asshole teenagers. Dill looks at me and says, very casually, “Heh, meet Joe Dirt” (It was a popular-ish movie at the time) I chuckled, and Randy snapped. “You think you’re real funny, you crackheads! Go, uh, Smoke some more crack, crackheads” (Dill and I did not look like crackheads, we were healthy high school kids, wearing decent clothing and most importantly, not smoking crack) It gets quiet, for a solid 3 seconds, I look at Dill, He looks at me, and as if cued by a countdown, we both hysterically started laughing at the same time. Laughing and pointing at Randy. He stormed off, and we finished our meal.
Now, a solid 5 minutes passed after Randy stormed out of the McDonalds. We thought the ordeal was over, but it was just beginning. While walking out of the McDonalds we walked past the blockbuster video, since I parked on the other side of the parking lot. We thought about going in for a minute to pick up some movies, but then I notice a red dodge caravan parked in the fire lane in front of blockbuster. I notice it because cars weren’t supposed to park there, although it was a popular spot for people to temporarily park while dropping off movies in the slot. On the back of this van was a sticker that said “Get in, Hold On, Shut Up” or some shit like that, that only a redneck would put on his wife’s car. Sure enough, walking around the van I see a mullet. In fact, all I see is a mullet and 2 middle fingers resting on the steering wheel, aimed right at us. I couldn’t see a face because redneck Randy was intentionally looking to his left, opposite of us, the adult equivalent of hiding under the blankets til the crackhead monsters go away. We take a few more steps, laughing but not pointing out Redneck Randy, and the horn beeps. We both turn to see Randy, still not looking at us, and both middle fingers prominently displayed resting on the steering wheel. Surely the most adult way to handle unruly teenagers. We proceeded to walk to my van, not really paying much attention to Randy. Then Dill got an idea, he tells me he wants to yell something at Randy, and I figured why not? what’s the worst that could happen?
We drove past Randy, slowly, my window passed his window and I smirked while he mumbled something under his breath. “Alright dude, you wanna say something to him, I’ll spin around and pull up right next to his window” I said. Dill got excited, he was all about yelling something to Randy. I slowly pulled up next to the red dodge caravan, and I stop. Randy looks up and Dill slowly puts down his window. I hear a noise, a nauseating, noise from the back of Dill’s nasal passages… He hocks a loogie and spits it right on Randy’s face. Now, I am completely shocked, he wasn’t supposed to actually DO anything, he was just supposed to yell something dumb and I drive off free and clear. Now I’m involved just as much as he is. Randy tries to open his door, but can’t, due to the fact that I stopped immediately beside his van. He leaps out of the passenger door and runs around his van to the front of mine. Now at this point, I realized what was happening and I let my foot off the brake, but being dumbfounded I didn’t think to take off. Randy presses his hands on the hood and screams “Call the police! Call the police! They assaulted me, I’m assaulted” Now, at this point, I’m in full on panic mode. I’m scared, not of Randy, but of what my parents are going to do to me when they find out (See Beating, cursing, etc above) I get the amazing idea in my head to just go. Just drive. Surely Randy isn’t stupid enough to not get out of the way. The caravan was big enough that the hood ornament was almost chest level, so I wasn’t worried about running him over, just kinda nudging him out of the way.
I leave off the brake and the van starts idling forward. Randy is backing up, hands still on the hood. We go 10 feet or so and I hit the brakes, I crack my window and yell “You done yet? I have to get home, I have stuff to do” He replies “No, the cops are coming, you assaulted me and you tried to run me over, you’re getting arrested” Well, not being one to want to get arrested for anything, I decided I wasn’t going to hang around. I left off the brakes again, this time I tapped the gas abruptly. This was enough to knock the wind out of randy, he looked up, his eyes were like frisbees, all white, unibrow tipped upward in astonishment. He thought his threats were a match for over 3000 lbs of minivan, they weren’t. I tapped the gas a second time. This catapulted Randy onto the hood, he grabbed the windshield wipers and clung to the van. I decided to go. In my mind, I was going to go home and beep the horn until my stepdad came out, probably with a gun, and resolved all of this. I was about 2 miles from home, and we didn’t quite make it that far.
Now Randy is on the hood of my minivan, Dill is laughing in amazement, I’m figuratively pissing my pants, Randy is yelling at the top of his lungs that I tried to murder him (I didn’t, that was never the intent) I get to the stop sign exiting the shopping center, and I stop of course. I yell out the window “Dude, this is it, last chance to get off of my fucking van, I got shit to do and I’m not waiting anymore.” Randy screamed “You are going to be arrested, I’m not going anywhere until the cops come” OK, I thought. I casually put on my right turn signal and pulled out of the parking lot. I get to a second stop sign, pulling onto academy drive in ephrata, pa, speed limit is only 25, I can make it! I give Randy a look, he looks back at me, tears coming out of his eyes from fear, I put on my right turn signal and start going. Dill is hysterically laughing this whole time, Randy is screaming, I’m moving along at 20-25 mph. I turn up the radio to drown out Randy’s screams, listening to Disturbed – Down with the sickness. I then start laughing myself, the panic subsided, or I went temporarily insane. I flip on the wipers, they don’t work, not with Randy’s fat ass using them as handles. So, then I turn on the wiper fluid, it squirts up from under his belly and hits him right on the chin, his clothing gets soaked, but he’s still hanging on. My intent was never to hurt Randy, I just didn’t want him hanging on my van or impeding me from leaving. As I’m laughing and watching Randy, I fail to notice construction vehicles on the side of the road, that Randy is yelling at, along with a fire police guy doing something with a hydrant.
Before I know it, a small fire police SUV/Jeep pulls up beside me, then cuts me off. I slam on the brakes and randy falls off the hood. He jumps up and points at me through the windshield and yells in his best Macho Man Randy Savage voice “Boy!!! You spit on me, Boy!!!” I laugh and point to Bill, Randy’s finger shifts over to Bill “Boy….” before Randy can finish what he’s yelling a fire policeman walks up to Randy, pats him on the back and asks him if he’s OK. An honest question really. Then calmly sits him on the curb, like he wasn’t just hanging off of the hood of a teenagers minivan. The fire policeman than proceeds to come up to my door, swing it open and yanks me out by my wrist. He pushes me up against the van, kicks my feet apart and tells me not to move. I turn around and asked him very politely “Who the fuck are you? Do you really have the authority to fucking touch me?” He responded with a gruff “Shut Up, Cops are coming” He then walked over and started talking to Randy, like they were father and son.
Then the cavalry showed up, the actual police. The cop gets out, seemingly annoyed and walks up to me (My hands still on the van, feet kicked apart) and asks “What are you doing?” I replied “That fucking guy with the reflective jacket threw me up against the van and told me not to move” The cop chuckled and told me I could turn around. So I leaned up against the van and told the cop what happened. He then walked up to Randy and got his side of the story. He then called me over next to him and Randy and said “Look guys, I didn’t see what happened. You shouldn’t have gotten on his van in the first place, and you certainly shouldn’t have driven with him on there, so you’re both wrong. If one of you presses charges, the other one has every right to as well, so we could just call it a wash” The cop takes my information and says, “If he decides to press charges i’ll give you a call or stop by, otherwise you’re good to go” He says Bye to Randy and gets in his car to leave.
Now, I never received a phone call or a visit from the police, I’ve never seen or heard from Randy again, but justice was served that day. While the cop was driving away, and I was getting in the van, Randy was standing on the curb, I see a red Dodge Caravan parked behind me. It was Randy’s wife. She jumps out of the van, runs up to Randy and slaps him with all of her body weight. Then proceeds to poke him in the chest while screaming at him at the top of her lungs. He apparently left their 2 small children in the van when he decided to joyride on the hood of mine. Hope it was worth it Randy.
In the end, I got home and had to tell my parents what happened. The one windshield wiper was broken, the other was popped out of place. There were dents in the hood and then I realized one thing… that hood ornament…
Jammed somewhere between his groin and stomach, the whole time. So, at the end of the day Randy got spit on, scared, wet, slapped, yelled at and possibly divorced all because he wanted to yell at 2 kids in a McDonalds.
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