I just read Dereck Semmler’s most recent article, “Men are Wimps…” at his blog The Man Page and instantly flashed back to a time early in our marriage when we actually caught someone robbing our house. Well, we didn’t catch him in the house. . . I had to give chase for a bit. Let’s just say right off that my wife was thoroughly unimpressed.
On a Sunday afternoon, returning home from our final Lamaze class we pulled into the garage of our little 2-story condo. I didn’t remember leaving the door into the kitchen propped open. And funny how the shadow of a miniblind is playing on the wall, though the wind is not blowing at all. Curious. I don’t remember leaving my television set on the kitchen floor . . .
BAH- WHAAMMMMM ! ! ! Before the concept could gell in my mind, I simply reacted.
I flew out of the car, barely throwing it into Park as the realization engulfed me that someone was in my house stealing my stuff. Questioning my own sanity, but being propelled uncontrollably ahead by Lord-knows-what and testosterone laced adrenaline I grabbed the first substantial looking thing I saw. A clothes iron.
Leaving our superhero suspended mid-stride for a moment, let me tell you everything that flashed in my mind at the very moment I picked up that iron: “OK this is good it’s heavy and could deflect bullets can’t find a butcher knife besides they’re all dull anyway hope the neighbor guy is home I could use some backup call 911 ! this thing could work like a shield i could throw it at him and run God I am stupid banished to the couch forever what do I do with him if I find him I’ll probably trip over the cord why can’t I stop myself Our Father who art in heaven… he’s more afraid than I am HERE WE GOOOOoooo ! “
So I did it- I searched the house, room to room, holding the iron in front of me. (I didn’t even wet my pants, and yes I did check). I am soo thankful that my wife stayed outside for that spectacle. The video would have won the $10,000 prize for sure: Skinny macho guy holding a trembling iron at arm’s length and swinging it back and forth like you see the cops do when they sweep a room. I was so pumped up I can’t remember if I even said anything out loud. It didn’t take me long to figure out that the would-be thief made a hasty escape by diving out the dining room window when he heard the garage door go up. This explains the miniblinds moving around when we pulled into the garage. He left broken glass and a little blood behind as a memento.
You would think someone in this situation would be relieved as soon as they figured out that the intruder was gone. You would think that a sane person would just thank God that nobody got hurt. You would think.
In the meantime, my very panicked and very 8 1/2 months pregnant wife was trying to convince the neighbor guy to “get over there and help my husband out”. Not a chance. This wimp just stood at the window and looked out. He offered to let her use the phone to call the police, though.
Coming down from my adrenaline high, I went back outside to find my wife. And was I thankful for that big belly, which was the only thing separating me from a real stressed-out-wife thrashing. I reassured her that everything was fine, and I could easily repair the window. Arm in arm, we walked into the scene of the crime to assess if anything was missing. The intruder had piled a bunch of our stuff in the garage with the intent of using our other car as the getaway vehicle. He was searching for the car keys when we startled him and he dove out the window.
You would think this would be the end of the affair: Just file a police report, get on with life, and adjust to sleeping on the couch. Remember what I said about sanity? Sanity had not fully returned to my feeble mind yet.
The thought that someone had violated our space was eating at me. At the same time I was contemplating the crime and wondering about the humanity of such a person. It dawned on me that he was going to steal our car, which meant that he likely didn’t drive to our house, which meant HE IS ON FOOT!. A hasty plan was formed in my mind and I did not wait for validation from my poor wife. I set out on a walkabout of the condo neighborhood sans iron.
Yes, you read me right. I couldn’t leave well enough alone. I had the audacity to believe I might actually see the culprit just wandering around the complex and that I would somehow be able to identify him. Stupid, I know. Pride makes men do the darndest things, and my pride had been pricked by this invasion of our privacy.
As it turns out I did find the guy and he was carrying someone else’s TV and VCR in his arms. (And I simplify the story here as it gets complex). He told me he couldn’t remember where his car was parked and wondered if I would hold his stuff while he looked for his car. He set the electronics down by a tree and I gave chase. The cops finally showed up by this point (hours after the crime) and witnessed our little chase scene. They caught up with him in a cruiser and arrested him. Physical evidence tied him to several burglaries and he got a 1 year sentence in county jail.
Derek, thanks for bringing back a memory I had suppressed so well. Good times.
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