“Robbery” was the third thought that passed through my head. When I first heard the sound, my first thought was what the cats knocked down that could make such a loud thud. As I rushed out of my bedroom, the second thought was something big had hit the outside of my house. Now that thought was partially true, because in the micro-seconds in which I was darting down the upstairs hallway to where I turned the corner and saw the open front door, is when I thought “robbery,” and the reality hit me, when I saw the first black guy run out the door, and then the next, and I was screaming at them to get the fuck out of my house.
They got nothing.
Long story short: dumb fuckfaces ran off to a piece of shit 1992 Toyota Corolla sedan, which goes 0-60 in like 30 minutes, so I had more than enough time to get the plates, and within two minutes was on the phone with 911 where I reported the attempted break-in, the plates, and big surprise, it was a stolen car. Cop comes, interviews me, surveys scene, leaves. I tell Jen, cop comes back, asks me to escort him to where they got the two worthless assholes. Neighbor who apparently saw the shitheads trolling slash scouting around the neighborhood joins us, as a witness, as he saw the car doing its best impression of a getaway, which means yes, the stupid motherfuckers actually did attempt a break in within sight of a bystander. Collectively, we go to the scene of the arrest, and confirm that the arrested perps were indeed the two hoodrats that were attempted to break in to my house.
But now I’ve got a broken door frame, less than effective front door, and admittedly, some rattled nerves and a whole lot of pent up rage, anxiety, and stress. Curious if the cost of the home insurance deductible will be worth paying versus paying out of pocket for door repairs. Curious to know how long the justice system will take before I get just compensation for the failed crime. Curious to know if I’m more mentally wounded than I think I am.
YOU. GET. NOTHING.