9:55 AM. I’m getting dressed. I drift to the front door of my apartment and step outside, to see how well my clothes will fare in this morning’s weather.
As I open the door, I hear a young male voice across the street. “Sprint to the Pantry!” he hollers, his voice choked with laughter. And then I see a guy run straight into the fence of the house across the street, breaking right through its brown wooden slats and falling onto the lawn. The half-dozen guys with him all run off to the south, abandoning him. Presumably they’re going down the street to the nearby convenience store named Plaid Pantry.
Fence-breaker guy slowly gets up, and starts rooting around trying to pick up the pieces instead of running to catch up with his friends. I can only assume he broke the fence of the place he lives in.