I am absolutely livid right now.

Needless to say, the expletives have been flying out of my mouth since I got home this afternoon and found the letters BPK spray-painted in black on my white garage door.

What, I want to know, is the point? 

And if the idiots who did this are so proud of their “work,” why do it long after decent folks have gone to bed? Why not post these senseless slogans, signs and initials during the daytime if they’re so tough?

Of course, I wasn’t the only one to get hit. According to the dispatcher I talked with when I called the police department to report this criminal mischief, I was around the 14th or 15th call they’d received.

Unbelievable. But, then again, given the times we live in, not so much.

Needless to say, I begrudgingly spent part of my afternoon trying to remove the spray paint with a special cleaner I got from the paint store. I had to shell out about $30 for two bottles. I knew it would get some of the paint off but not all of it. 

And I was correct. You can still see where and what the letters were - which means I’m going to have to paint the door before it looks halfway decent again.

This came a day after I’d finally gotten my basement back in order. It flooded that night we got about three inches in a short amount of time. The same night McHale got hit hard. 

I’d had a sinking feeling water was getting in the basement that night. I went down to check, and, sure enough, it was pouring in under the door. Knowing there was nothing I could do about it right then, I simply turned around, went back up the stairs, took my meds and went to bed. I made like Scarlett O’Hara and decided to think about the mess the following day.

The entire cleanup and replacement wasn’t cheap. The Roto Rooter man had to come first and clean out my drains. Then, another guy came and replaced the basement door, which had about an inch of clearance between the bottom of the door and the concrete. 

In between, the carpet — which stunk to high heaven — had to be removed and later replaced. That entailed moving everything out of the finished room and into the garage. 

Thank goodness everything was back in place in the basement so my vehicle was parked in the garage that night. It’s hard telling what the cowards would’ve done to my SUV.

Stuff like this makes me so angry.

Granted I got into my share of mischief growing up but never did I dream of using spray paint. My friends and I used rolls of toilet paper and bars of soap. 

This makes the second time some unknowns have done this to my garage door. I wasn’t happy the first time around, either. But for some reason, I’m angrier this time.

I wasn’t the only one to get hit on my block, either. There’s an empty house that sits on the corner of Broadway and 23rd Street. There’s a carriage barn behind the house, and spray painted on the side facing the alley is SUR 13.

Again, I ask, what’s the point? 

A friend in Arizona told me that the spray paint there is locked up in stores. Me, I think they should have to present a photo ID and have to be 30 to use it. 

I just don’t get it. After this happened, I was told by a neighbor that there’s a city ordinance requiring me to remove the graffiti. This was confirmed by the clerk-treasurer.

Isn’t it a shame that there even has to be such an ordinance? What if somebody is vandalized who can’t afford the clean up? Will they get fined because of some idiots with spray cans? 

This graffiti problem has been going on for some time, but it seems to be getting worse.

And I’m telling you, I’m livid.

• Deb Saine is a columnist for the Pharos-Tribune. She can be reached through the newspaper at ptnews@pharostribune.com

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