Huh?

My last day as a teenager has started off oddly. After wasting an hour of travel time heading to and then back from Habitat's warehouse in downtown Beaumont, we arrived at our usual work location to find that the site's port-a-johns had been burned down. Let me repeat that: the port-a-johns had been burned down. Three partially built houses had been spared the fire (thankfully) but OUR FUCKING PORT-A-JOHNS HAD BEEN BURNED DOWN. I haven't been so absolutely confused in a while. Was it lightning? There was a thunderstorm last night, but there were far taller phone poles and trees immediately adjacent to the site that lightning would seem far more interested in than a pair of PLASTIC commodes. Was it douchebag kids that thought it would be funny? (in their defense, I found it hilarious...just the sheer random asshole decision to torch a port-a-john) I mean, there are no electrical components that could malfunction and spark a fire....SO CONFUSED. Anyway, it turned out well; between the charred remnants of the cans and the inches-deep mixture of mud and clay that had taken over the site, the supervisors decided to give us the day off.