Poker is not Bunco. Bunco is a rather transparent excuse to get together, and gossip...er..socialize. When guys get together every month, mainly its about the poker. Well, that and drinking while mocking each other.
There was a small exception this last Saturday. Since I was out after mostly listless play, I was catching up on eating, and I overheard some of the fathers of teenagers in the neighborhoods discussing what level of punishment they had handed out - and how happy/unhappy their wives were with their reaction to the horrifying event.
There was a group of teenagers hanging out at one of their houses. They decided to (as a group of 6-8) ding dong ditch. I'll let you take that in for a second.
Good. Are you shocked? Dismayed? I mean, the absolute gall of these kids. Ringing a doorbell and then hiding. Apparently they rang the wrong doorbell, because one of the neighbors called the cops. And they came. Man, the murder at the BK, the dual Bank Robberies, and now this. Will it ever stop? Am I cursed?
At this point I asked: No flaming poo? No snowballs at windows? No toilet paper on the trees? No soap on a car?
And yet they got picked up by the cops (because, well, they were running around in snow and their footprints led the cops to their hideout). They weren't arrested or anything, but they got a stern talking to I'm sure.
As I'm sure you can guess, my childhood was not spent dodging bullets and fighting off street toughs. I grew up in a hybrid college/farm town. Our idea of crime was speeding. And yet, I myself did this exact same thing. Well, I was smart enough to do it in the summer. But we specifically targeted the meanest person in the neighborhood. He ran out of the house and yelled at the backyard that he knew who we were....and he was going in to get his shotgun.
Shh...don't call the cops on me.