Tagging a wall gets Margaret tagged herself…
I’d repainted the wall running between my home and the alley three times this summer already. It was 10pm and I was taking some trash out when I heard the ‘psssssst pssssst’ of a spray can on the far side of the wall. Quietly I snuck out the far gate and made my way around the end of the block so that I approached the perp from behind. Whomever it was, they were either really young, or a very petite girl. As I got closer I could make out the goth hair and clothes so I was pretty sure who I was dealing with. When I was only a few feet away I said quietly, “Wow, nice work.” The painter jumped and spun around, eyes wide open. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to report you. …