Metro reporter Alan Feuer took naked revenge on a car alarm, as described in a personal essay in the "Complaint Box" section of Sunday's Metropolitan rundown, "A Hot [1]Night, a Car Alarm And a Recipe for Silence [1]."
BENH! BENH! BENH!
Both of us were jolted out of sleep; it was nearly 3 a.m.
"Oh, my God," my wife exclaimed. "What on earth is that?"
It was not any ordinary anti-theft device. This one had a leitmotif and separate movements, interspersed with that horrific drilling refrain. I crawled from bed and realized the noise was coming from my neighbor's truck, parked against the curb across the street. I recognized it instantly. Every night when he turned the alarm on, a computerized voice said, "BENH! System engaged!"
So at dawn the next morning, having scarcely slept, I crept outside in the darkness. There was no one on the street. The sign I had written the night before fit neatly under his wiper blade. It read (minus an obscenity): "FIX! YOUR! ALARM!"
When it happened again, Feuer sprang into action:
By now, my wife has told me many times precisely what she saw that night, so I feel as if I might have seen it too: a man fully naked in the heat of mid-July, storming by in a sort of sleepless fever, armed with a vanilla Brown Cow yogurt and a dozen brown eggs.
The eggs hit first, with a splat against his windshield and a gorgeous gooey smear of yolk and glair. But the real joy, the true enjoyment, was the white line of cultured dairy product running at an angle down his door.