I have been very busy slaving away in the salt mines, banging out tests on an eCommerce website. This entails something I am not used to anymore, working weekends. Yeah, yeah, I can hear all your hearts breaking out there in the bloggosphere. I woke up and went about my morning routine. At twenty until eight, coffee in hand, I kissed the wife, and headed out the door. I went down the stairs and headed to my car, which was parked in the parking lot across the street. It was then that I noticed that there was someone sitting in my car. I am now thinking, "No Way!" I am in such a state of shock, that I have to double check that, a, this is actually my car, and b, that there was some dude I did not know sitting there, in MY car.
I put my bag and coffee down on the trunk of my wife's car ,which was parked in the driveway, and went back inside the house. I decided to offer this impromptu socialist, intent on redistributing some of my wealth, a bit of the "New America" that Dear Leader has promised us all. I grabbed the phone, dialed 911, retrieved my security system and jacked a shell into the chamber. I returned to my car "Hoping" to catch this guy and "Change" him into a corpse.
I surprised this dip-shit, jammed my shotgun under his nose and yelled, "What's up meth-head!" Still on the phone, the dispatcher is rather concerned at this point, and I can hear her yelling for me to talk to her. This douche then moves a bit and I yell a warning to not move and cast an aspersion on his possible fornication with his mother. At some point the guy just takes off running. I yell for him to stop, then to come back and finally not to make me chase him. He, of course, keeps running. I decide that the local district attorney might be just contrary enough to decide it was murder if I popped a shot into the guy's back, you never can tell with district attorneys.
So I quickly switch 911 over to the cell phone, and take off after my new bestest friend. I feel it necessary at this point to tell you that from the police station, I live sixty yards as the crow flies, or three hundred yards as the perp runs. The police busted this idiot just as he rounded the corner, and dispatch told me that they were requesting my presence. I arrive on the scene, and find out from the officer that this person had spent the night in my car because he was too drunk to make it home, and it was too cold to pass out just anywhere. The officer asked me if anything was missing from my car, like my stereo. I told the cop that is my friend had taken my stereo, then the joke was definitely on him. In the interest of fairness I must now describe my car to you. I drive a '93 Buick Regal Custom that has definitely seen better days. It has a factory stereo of 4"x4" in dash variety, and the volume knob does not even work. The rest of the car is much the same as I use it only to commute back and forth from work and getting around town.
The officers start to put this guy in their car and I tell him to enjoy jail and possibly compared him to a rectal opening. One of the officers tells me that this was not necessary to which I reply, "I disagree, but alright." The cop and myself go through the vehicle to catalog the damage. This guy smoked meth in my car, making it smell, stole approximately $1.50 in loose change and broke my cup holder. Honestly some people have no respect for their homes. At this point the cop starts to take his leave, and wishes me to have a better day. Being from the south, and rather worked up, I respond in my Texan drawl, which resurfaces at time such as these, "Hell officer, I done caught me a criminal, it don't get to be a much better day than that." The officer looks at me a little disbelievingly and says, "WOW! Alright then."
I have to admit that this was a particularly fine day because of these events, but my wife is still somewhat mortified that I was out in the street, "waving my shotgun around" and screaming curses at the top of my lungs while my extremely leftist neighbors were out on their porch enjoying their morning coffee. I do not know what she is so worked up over, after all I am not the one breaking into cars. I have also failed to mention, that this guy was so frightened, that he pissed his pants, literally, sometime during these proceedings. I seriously doubt, due to the level of sheer terror that this guy felt, caused by an angry, screaming, cursing, gun wielding red-neck, that he will be returning to my street any time soon. I also fervently hope that this experience will teach him to be more careful about his choice in temporary domiciles in the future.
All-in-all, I am very proud of this guys capture, and my small part therein. It really brightened an otherwise crap day. I offer this advice to my friend, and others of his ilk, beware which car you break into, if you can see my house, you are within range. I have included this guys name and mug-shot so graciously provided by the county jail roster.
Macario I. Arrested for:
Criminal Mischief II
Criminal Trespass II
-----UPDATE-----
Here is a study in the different between a victim and a predator mentality. After hearing about my Sunday fun, two ladies I work with asked me a question. In all seriousness they asked me why I had to confront my intruder with a shotgun. Not getting what they really meant I answered equally serious, "Because the pistols were too far away, and the .22 is too small and ineffective." Neither of us understood the others statement, but at least my answer will get me home at the end of the day instead of in a bag at the morgue.