Ratdog68
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I hear a faint knock on the front door. Well, just because someone knocks doesn't mean I'm obligated to open the door.
Next I hear voices in the driveway and see someone walking passed my side window. I decided to be nice, so I grabbed a 5' long walking stick and quietly go to the side of the house.
Middle aged woman with a yappy little dog on a leash in my driveway, and what I can only assume is her son, door open and sitting inside of one of my cars at the back of the driveway. I think the woman just about pee'd herself when I announced my presence loud enough to wake my neighbors, letting him know he has NO business being on the property, let alone opening the door to a car and getting in it. Also told him that if he sets foot on the property again I'll beat the living snot out of him. Mom's apologizing up one side and down the other and asking if that means that I'm not interested in parting with the car and they'd planned to leave a note. Jr.'s head down and quietly making his way to their car (in my driveway).
The car? An '84 Hurst/Olds with 100,000 original miles on it. I bought it when it was two years old and had 9,000 miles on it.
I considered testing the integrity of the wood (walking stick) up-side his melon, just for good measure, but I think I got my point across. After a dozen car prowls and two home invasion burglaries, I have no patience for idiots.
Next I hear voices in the driveway and see someone walking passed my side window. I decided to be nice, so I grabbed a 5' long walking stick and quietly go to the side of the house.
Middle aged woman with a yappy little dog on a leash in my driveway, and what I can only assume is her son, door open and sitting inside of one of my cars at the back of the driveway. I think the woman just about pee'd herself when I announced my presence loud enough to wake my neighbors, letting him know he has NO business being on the property, let alone opening the door to a car and getting in it. Also told him that if he sets foot on the property again I'll beat the living snot out of him. Mom's apologizing up one side and down the other and asking if that means that I'm not interested in parting with the car and they'd planned to leave a note. Jr.'s head down and quietly making his way to their car (in my driveway).
The car? An '84 Hurst/Olds with 100,000 original miles on it. I bought it when it was two years old and had 9,000 miles on it.
I considered testing the integrity of the wood (walking stick) up-side his melon, just for good measure, but I think I got my point across. After a dozen car prowls and two home invasion burglaries, I have no patience for idiots.
