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| This story is going to get pathetic before it gets awesome. by Jerry Whorebach 11/03/2006, 3:11pm PST | ||||
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| First of all, he wasn't technically a burglar. Longtime readers might remember that I live in a basement with my mother :(. Well, for a while last year she was being stalked by an ex-boyfriend. I seriously thought that kind of thing was only a problem for women on the Lifetime Network but apparently it happens in real life now too.
Unusually for my mom she was actually terrified of her stalker, because he's a big violent gun-owner who has brutally beaten other men while she watched and threatened to kill her on numerous occasions. You might be wondering why I let her get involved with this clownshoes in the first place. The truth is I didn't have any say in the matter, because she's an adult who makes her own decisions and I'm a mentally-disabled man-child who can wait to give out relationship advice until he's actually had a girlfriend. Anyway, back to the part of this story that doesn't make me want to kill myself. The police were no help whatsoever. I'd alert them every time he trespassed on my property, I'd give statements and they'd put in unpaid overtime filling out reports. Eventually they got a warrant for his arrest - after he actually hit her, busting her lip open - but all that meant was they could arrest him if he answered the door at his home and stepped outside. Since they didn't have a search warrant they couldn't go inside, and without some kind of provincial superwarrant they couldn't even pick him up walking down the street. This all came to a head one hot night in August of last year, when he lost whatever shred of self-control he had to begin with and kicked-in my kitchen door. Before I go any further I should point out that he's a 6'5", 220lb lumberjack with a six-pack of abs and I'm a 5'6", 175lb computer gamer with a six-pack of collectible Episode III cans. So the fact that he had me in a chokehold within seconds shouldn't come as much of a shock. Fortunately I was able to grab a carving knife out of the block on the counter and threaten him with it until he backed out the door, which I slammed and deadbolted. By now my neighbours are leaning out their windows screaming that the cops are on their way - noone actually wants to come down and help - so he pounds on the windows for a bit and takes off. Then I make sure my mom is okay, stick the knife in my back pocket, pull a claw hammer out of the tool drawer, and go after him. I catch up to him in the alley behind my building, where he's already driving away. I chase after his car and throw the hammer through his back window. He stops and gets out. I go for the knife in my back pocket but it's no longer there, I lost it back by the garage. Shit. He charges me and I rip a piece of decorative driftwood off my neighbours' back fence. I strike him in the legs but it doesn't have any effect because I'm wielding a fucking twelve-inch wormhole-riddled piece of softwood and he's built like a brick wall. He wraps his hands around my neck and tries to force me to the ground. I hit him a few times over the head and then my weapon breaks. So I take the sharp end of the five inches or so I have left and ram it into the wound I opened on his dome about twenty or thirty times, pausing only once when I'm about to lose my footing to slide it up his cheek until he's forced to either shift his weight off me or lose the eye. Eventually someone tells me that he's not even moving anymore and once I figure out what that means I stop hitting him and blink until my eyes can focus again. He's unconscious. My neighbour runs over and puts him in some gay Judo hold until the police arrive. The police... they try their best, but they can't even take posession of him until they've collected statements and are prepared to make an arrest on specific charges. Meanwhile my neighbour and I are trying to keep him pinned as he regains consciousness without doing anything that might get us arrested too, like breaking his goddamn legs, while the cops just stand there and watch with utility belts full of handcuffs and zip ties. Once they finally get their act together he's arrested, checked out by a paramedic, driven to the hospital, then spends a few hours in a cell before being released on $500 bail. The arresting officer literally spent more time on what was supposed to be her day off collecting evidence and writing reports than he did behind bars. I'm just glad he didn't have the balls to come back armed and stealthy, like he could have in the first place. |
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