They ran off to what I am assuming (from the number of people) is a party two houses down. Unfortunately for them, I saw them assault my poor trash bin and I and walked right outside. They were embarrassed that they'd been seen and they saw me watch them walk all the way down the sidewalk and into that house. I just stood there, watching, and I heard a girl say "OMG, she's still watching!" Yes, Miss Horority, I am still watching.
I righted the trash bin and one of the guys who lives in that house walked down to me and apologized. He had a real hang-dog look, but it was probably more due to not wanting me to make trouble with the authorities than because he really felt bad. I wish I had handled that part better. I should have maybe thanked him for apologizing, because he really did not want to walk down and talk to me (especially with me glaring at him every step of the way) but I didn't say much at all. I just let him say he was sorry over and over again, and that his friends were from out of town, and that he had tried to stop them, and that he would keep them inside and it wouldn't happen again.
He looked like a college boy, but the jackholes looked like high schoolers. I am half-tempted to call the police and get some underagers arrested. Yes, I am That Person. I most likely will not, due to the one who manned up and spoke to me, but I'm still ticked at them.
At least it was just tipped over (and I don't think it cracked or anything, despite the jump-kick action). If I had a street-side mailbox, that would be been a harder repair.
I'm glad they know I saw them. I'm glad I look a little rough today from working on the guest room. I look like a trailer trash biznatch who might be able to mess you up, and who certainly does not take that kind of crap lightly. This is my neighborhood, jackholes.
I wish we were having the game at our house tonight. I might really like to have my own party here.
In conclusion, jackholes.