Steel-toed boots are also useful for
random acts of mayhem be they they
minor or
major. For instance, falling into the
minor catagory would be challenging someone to a quick game of
Roshambo and forgetting to mention
the exact nature of your footwear. Falling into the
major catagory is a practice known as
balrog hunting (an
AD&D reference, for
all you noders out there less
pathetic than Yrs Trly).
Balrog hunting takes place in the
suburbs, where there are no streetlamps to shine a telltale light on the body of the
minivan in which you and
five of your closest juvenile delinquent friends are riding. If the van is a newer
model, then you are fortunate, as you now have two
sliding doors to work from. As you cruise down the darkened streets with your
headlights down and your
dimmer off, the
delinquent riding shotgun scans the cars parked along the road for good
prospective targets. When the proper cars have been spotted, the
sliding doors come open. You and another friend lie down across the
seats, your legs sticking out into the night. As the
driver goes by your chosen
targets at thirty miles an hour, you kick.
CRUNCH.
That,
my fellow noders, is the sound of a
side view mirror being torn off the side of a car.
You pull your legs back inside the
minivan, shutting the door as the driver makes
like a bat out of hell for the next
suburban hellhole on the list, and thank
God for
steel-toed boots.