What is the craziest crime you have ever committed – quora electricity in costa rica current


Jaida was constantly trying to get a “real boyfriend” and she had (unwisely) decided that meant she had to immediately have sex with any guy who showed a passing interest in her. This did not usually lead to a lasting relationship, but she kept trying anyway.

As a side note, she and I had a lot in common, including some pretty unhealthy behaviors. This promiscuity was not a behavior that I shared with her. I was on the other extreme. If I had a date, I would worry all night about whether or not he might try to kiss me, and dread that moment. Not that I wasn’t attracted to boys, I was just plain scared of “getting physical”.

I don’t know why I feel like I had to always go along with her plans for revenge. I guess I thought “true friendship” required absolute loyalty on my behalf. I have at times wondered if maybe I was even worse than her, because I never had anything personal against these poor guys. To be brutally honest with myself, I enjoyed the excitement of it. It wasn’t boring! I absolutely cringe inwardly thinking about some of the crap we pulled back then.

We planned and plotting and schemed. She drove us to another town (I was too young to drive) to buy the supplies. Six large cans of blood red spray paint, two dozen eggs, numerous rolls of toilet paper and several tubes of toothpaste (don’t ask).

He attended high school in a different county, so we drove there, under cover of darkness, and carefully checked the area for surveillance cameras and security personnel. We discovered that a large wall on the very outskirts of the school property was not covered by either. It was also a good target for our intentions because it faced the football field and school.

I won’t reveal what we wrote about him, mostly because it’s just so incredibly stupid, vulgar and pathetic. We used up every single can of spray paint though. Huge block letters. The other items were saved for his house. We finished our crime and she sped away while I wiped our fingerprints off the cans and threw them into a field.

The next day I skipped school. She was called to the principal’s office and questioned by him and a couple of cops. She denied everything and they had no proof, so we were not punished for our crime. His school ended up having to hire someone to sandblast the entire wall to remove the graffiti. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but that must have been quite expensive.

I’ve planned some bizarre crimes – it’s something I’m known for. I once helped a friend let off steam by coming up with an intricate plan to paint her ex-boyfriend’s Hummer pink. By the time we got to finding the X-acto knives to cut the cardboard to cover the windows, she was feeling better. (I’d secretly kept adding steps… at one point she was gung-ho to head over with a spray can, and I explained that it would be pointless if we didn’t use high-gloss and do the proper detailing.)

As far as the craziest crimes I’ve actually committed… according to the authorities of my town, I used to be a juvenile delinquent. According to me, I was an insanely bored stoner who didn’t believe in laws and occasionally acted dumb. But here are some of my youthful offenses, and you can be the judge:

• Got hopped up on yellow jackets (those dubious over-the-counter energy pills they sell at gas stations) and climbed an eight-foot-tall fence to go skinny dipping with my friends in an apartment complex swimming pool. When disturbed by security, I have never seen anyone climb a fence so fast, especially several naked people.

• Was smoking a joint in a car when our driver, a lunatic, turned into the driveway in front of our local police station. It must have been shift change, as police cars filled the rest of the single lane. Assuming we were about to be arrested and nothing could be done anyway, we continued to smoke. (We were not arrested that particular day.)

• Was fooling around with an archery set at a house across the street from the police station. Starting talking about Washington throwing a stone across the Delaware. Somehow decided to shoot a target arrow over the fence towards the police station. Landed them only in the back yard, as expected, until one lucky(?) shot sailed across the road and stuck in their front lawn. Hid in bushes while police cars wailed around the neighborhood.

• Successfully paid for my ticket, dress and other expenses for two school dances by selling weed my dad had given me to stoners at my high school. Once I hid the weed in my bra (my mother kept buying me padded bras, and I would cut the pads out, so they already had pockets) and lost a cup size between the first and last period of school. By the next I had a system: my adorable stuffed panda bear that I took everywhere, who had some tiny holes in discreet seams.

• Repeatedly scammed a girl into believing in fake drugs. I sold her Altoids as ecstasy, saying that there were two different varieties I’d bought, “one that makes you smell oranges and one that makes you taste mint – which one did you get?” She rapturously said, “Your drugs are minty…” before having what by all appearances was a fantastic experience. Later cut up some yellow conifer pollen into lines and convinced her it was a new cutting edge drug from Europe. Canceled transaction at last moment, as it occurred to me that inhaling pollen might be bad for someone.*

• Was playing drunken strip poker at some hour after midnight. We decided to raise the stakes by saying that whoever was fully naked first had to go next door, knock, and if the neighbors answered, ask to borrow pants. The fellow who got naked first (I’m pretty good at poker) honored the bet; not only did the neighbor answer, he tried to embrace him in an admirable Christian fashion while welcoming him inside. My friend freaked out and ran, but bumped his knee on the window while scrambling back into my room. My mother came in then, saw the sprawl of half-naked teenagers, alcohol, and cards, and said in exasperation, “Damn it, Amy – you have school tomorrow!”

This is a very easy A2A for me because my wife and I are both ‘squeekys’, which is criminal slang for ‘squeeky clean’. If we drink 6 beers at ‘Happy Hour’ but only get billed for four when cashing out, I insist on it being corrected, which pisses off our Florida bar staff big style. The logic is no more complicated than this; if someone is going to point a finger at our integrity, it certainly isn’t going to be about the price of two pints.

So, to get back to the point, I am 9 years old, standing in front of a gigantic toothpaste advertisement billboard on the end of a building in Standish, Lancashire, holding chunks of coal. Every hit on the grinning toothpaste mouth blackened a tooth that bit more. It was great fun and very effective until a big Police Sergeant suddenly appeared from around the corner. We all ran as fast as our legs could carry us. Unfortunately, although not subject to pursuit, one of us had been recognised. How unlucky was I to be that Sergeant’s son? The punishment came later and involved a large flat hand.