On top of everything else

Saturday afternoon we basked in the glow of our hard work and a few carbonated beverages as we admired a graffiti-fee Molly's. Yesterday I went by to drop off a bag of holiday lights and noticed the sidewalk out front marked up with chalk. Shrugging, it was only chalk, after all-I went inside and answered the ringing phone. The bachelor who had helped with the paint job asked me to check the men's room. He heard me screaming and crying before I came back to the receiver lying on the counter. Our clean white walls had been covered with ugly epithets, tags and taunts in permanent paint markers. A few lines were specifically directed towards me. He offered to come over with his paint again, but I was just too tired and too busy to stick around and fix it. While Molly's may not be the fanciest place in town, indeed, it has been more accurately described as a dive-I don't want my bathrooms befouled with sophomoric territorial markings and puerile posturing. Graffitos take heed; VANDALISM IS NOT ART. I should know. I have a degree in it. Do you?