I had just moved into my new house. The driveway had just been created and paved. It was all new. Everything was clean and flawless. So you can see why I was pissed when I saw, upon my arrival home from work one day, a large white “M” spray-painted by some idiot along the outermost portion of my brand-spanking-new driveway.
I looked down at this abomination and thought about all the assholes of the world, how some people always have to wreck it for everybody. But my next thought was a little more sinister: I had heard on the local news how graffiti could indicate gang activity, and how the Portland Police Department’s Graffiti Task Force was combating the problem. Gangs make their marks around town to signify their “territory,” I had learned. (Never underestimate the edifying power of the local news.)
And there were other, perhaps even more unsettling possibilities as to why someone would commit this heinous act on my driveway. I had just moved in -- were they targeting me? I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it was kind of a scary thought. I had recently put an anti-Bush bumper sticker on my car. Maybe that was it! I could just see some right-wing wacko going all ballistic and murdering me in my sleep over my bumper sticker. But no, the gang scenario seemed more likely.
Either way, clearly I should report this to the police. I went upstairs to make the call.
I dialed the Police Non-Emergency number and asked for the Graffiti Task Force. They weren’t in, since it was after hours, but I explained the situation to Central Dispatch. They listened attentively to my explanation and told me they would send an officer over right away.
A police officer drove up within 15 minutes. This was serious stuff! The officer greeted me and I showed him the graffiti. He walked all the way around the offending mark, studying it carefully.
Then he turned to me and said, “Do you have a water meter on this property here?”
Water? What does water have to do with anything?
I told the policeman that it was a brand new house, that I had just moved in. I noticed he kind of tightened up his mouth when I said that. “I think what we have here,” he told me, already moving toward his car, “is that the water company has recently marked where they’re going to put the water meter on this property.”
Oh.
The "M" was a "W". "W" as in Water.
The officer said goodbye and pulled out. He needed to attend to other matters. I can understand that.
I thought he did a pretty good job controlling himself. It was really quite considerate of him.