Dirty Trick #6 -- Fun With Ice

From time to time, a random chance works out in your favor -- especially if you nudge the odds in the right direction.  The last winter we lived in Allentown, it snowed a lot.  Like 65 inches.  It soon got to be too much trouble to clear all the snow off the top of our Dodge van, seemingly every time we wanted to go out.  And so it happened that when temperatures climbed above freezing in the spring, there was still an inch-thick layer of ice on top of the van.
I knew I had this load of ice on the roof as I got onto US 22.  My idea was that sometime before I got up to speed, the wind would lift the ice off the roof and let it smash harmlessly in the roadway.  All I had to do was time my acceleration so that noone was following too closely behind.  I drove with a good bit of my attention directed toward the rear-view mirror.
It was also the case that -- even though the I-78 bypass had recently opened -- most of the truck traffic still went through on US 22.  And they drove as if they owned all 4 lanes.  Passenger cars were not welcome.  (I'll bet you can guess where this story is going.)  Well, the ice proved more tenacious than I had anticipated.  And in the mean time, one of those obnoxious trucks came up behind and completely filled the rear-view.  I was already doing 60, and there he was -- not 16 feet off my rear bumper.  He was, in fact, driving in my slipstream -- as proven by what happened next.  I had switched from thinking "I hope it doesn't go now." to "Oh please oh please oh please!"
The little bump going onto the deck of the Lehigh River bridge and a little gust together were enough to tilt the leading edge of the ice sheet up, and away it went!  I watched it start to fall toward the pavement, but then the slipstream carried it up and let it smash right across the hood of the truck.  Score!  Well what do you think? A minute later he was back on my tail blowing the horn like crazy.  OK, fine.  I'd be upset too.  I slowed down a bit, but he continued following for at least five miles.  Somewhere in there it became apparent he wanted me to pull over.  But there was nothing I could do because the shoulder was all filled with snow.  When I did finally pull over, the trucker came up and wanted my insurance information.  He said that the ice from my car had cracked his windshield and wanted my insurance to cover the damage.  OK, fine.  We exchanged insurance and contact information.  He wasn't angry like I expected him to be.  He was also apparently clueless that his tailgating played a major part in getting his windshield smashed.  Maybe he got a clue later.
When I returned home, I received a call from my insuror, wanting to know the circumstances of the claim.  I stressed that the trucker had been following me so closely.  Otherwise, the ice from my roof would have fallen harmlessly to the ground.  An hour later, the trucking company called and I gave them the same story.  My guess is that the claims adjustor for my insurance called the trucking company and at least gave them a hard time before paying up.  I can only hope that the trucking company gave their trucker the same treatment.

Dirty Trick #5 -- No Traction

When I was in Junior High in the 8th grade, I was already developing bicycling as a hobby.  At least I commuted 4 miles a day to school and back, and also pedaled an ancient one-speed coaster-brake bike through my paper route.  I found I had considerable strength from the waist down, and wondered if I was strong enough to lift the front end of our VW bug entirely off the ground.  So one Friday evening, I laid a flashlight down next to the left-front tire, pointed at the rock wall on the opposite side of the car.  Then, I squatted and slid my legs under the front bumper so I could lift it using the tops of my thighs.  All I had to do was flex my thighs and gastrocs a bit, and both front tires went up 2 inches in the air.

A few months later, I was on my bike waiting for the light at Baseline on 20th Street, and I noticed that my English teacher, Mr. Reno, was in his yellow Volvo Sport wagon just ahead.  I used the same trick to lift the rear of his Volvo off the ground.  When the light turned green, Mr. Reno tried to drive off, but his wheels just spun.  I hadn't managed to get the rear entirely off the ground, but there were patches of ice from a recent snowstorm.  It was enough to keep him from being able to go forward.  I set the back end of his car back down and then he drove away.

Dirty Trick #4 -- No butts

When you ride a bicycle between towns, you go slowly enough that you can truly enjoy the scenery.  You also get to examine all the litter that human swine have chucked out of their cars, as if they can't tell the difference between the roadway and a trash can.  To me, the apex of insolence was when someone would chuck trash out of the driver's side window while I was waiting right behind him in the left turn lane.  If the timing was right, I would pull along side, pick up said trash item, and chuck it right back in.

One time, I took this tactic a bit too far.  I was waiting for the left turn signal at Arapahoe Avenue on 30th Street when the guy in front of me tossed a lit cigarette out the window.  I pulled up and tossed it back in.  Then, I took off like a shot -- fully expecting the guy to try to run me down.  Instead, he had jumped out of the car to try to keep from being burned.

You can probably only expect to get away with something like that once per lifetime.  So I still occasionally toss back candy wrappers and the like, but never again a lit cigarette.

Dirty Trick #3 -- Spare Change

When I was an undergrad, I one time decided to ride my bicycle up to the East Portal of the Moffat Tunnel.  On the way back, I stopped in Rollinsville to buy a candy bar at the general store.  And that evening, I stopped at the King Soopers to pick up some items for a well-deserved large supper.  I had started the day with a $5 bill in my pocket, so taking out the 26 cents for the candy bar, I knew I had $4.74 to spend.

Imagine my surprise when I got ready to pay and found I was short.  In fact, I had only $3.38 in my pocket.  It didn't take me very long to figure out what had happened: The lady in the general store had short-changed me -- precisely one unit in each denomination.

So the next Saturday, I rode back up to Rollinsville and informed the lady she'd short-changed me and I wanted my money back -- one dollar, one quarter, one dime and one penny.  She dished it out of the till without even looking up.  Her unquestioning reimbursement confirmed my suspicion that she tried to short-change every customer, and would therefore be unable to identify anyone she hadn't cheated.  "This is great!" I thought, "So long as I can get myself to Rollinsville, I shall never be penniless in this world."*

*Caveat: This took place 38 years ago; the general store in Rollinsville (if it still exists) is probably under different management by now....

Dirty Trick #2 -- Elementary Swahili

While I was a graduate student at NC State, the university decided to roll out a new automated class registration system.  One registered for classes using a touch-tone phone, using student number and a 4-digit PIN to log in.  There were four of us sharing an office, and one of my fellow graduate students, Gee-Gwo Mei, left his PIN sitting out on his desk.

I knew exactly what to do: I signed him up for Elementary Swahili! 

I waited until his printed schedule arrived and he was exclaiming  to the rest of the office how the "stupid computer" signed him up for the wrong class.  Then, I admitted my misdeed.

Dirty Trick #1 -- Special Donut

I took a summer course in Surveying in Boulder between 8th and 9th grades.  The kids in the class were supposed to take turns bringing in a snack to share mid-morning.  One kid in the group was obnoxious: always the first to select a snack, and always taking the largest or best.  So I thought, "This guy needs to be taken down a peg."

When my turn to make snacks came up, I decided to make doughnuts.  I made enough for the group and then took Tobasco sauce and mixed it in to the batter to make the final doughnut.  I made sure the last doughnut was larger than any of the others.  I also made sure that it was at the top of the pyramid.

The next day, the whole thing went like clockwork: I took off the plastic wrap and held out the plate.  Mr. Obnoxious (I forget his real name) was first in line and went straight for the one on top.  He took a bite and screwed up his face.  Score! Meanwhile everyone else was complimenting me on how good the doughnuts were.  Mr. O seemed to have no idea he'd been had.  Double score!!

It is said that revenge is a dish best eaten cold.  Indeed, and you get the special sauce when the target remains clueless.