This street imp was looking like all the others, just a slob like one of us, until he pulls a rock out of his hoodie and hurls a 70 mph fastball across 9th without really breaking stride. He reared back and hurled but then resumed walking with a quickness.
I was supposing he was throwing the rock at a person but his target was a business vehicle, a white van.
The thing is he threw it down and counted on a random bounce get it up to where it could do some damage.
Anyway, here he is, walking away, all casual, IndyBay personified. If you looked around after getting struck you wouldn’t necessarily suspect him. This kid’s a pro, a professional:
And here’s his rock, found right in the middle of the sidewalk across the street, seen next to a fat lawyer’s shoe for comparison:
How many more stones does this kid have in his hoodie’s marsupial pocket? Probably lots.
So this is why your window gets broken randomly, for no reason.
Now you’d think the hormones coursing through his veins would be telling him to get out there and try to impress girls, or boys, or whomever, you know, so he could have sex or something, right? But no, all that frustration and energy gets poured into another kind of release, the satisfaction of hearing breaking windows or causing grievous bodily injury to random pedestrians on the mean streets of San Francisco.