Ever since our upstairs neighbours were broken into, a culture of fear has gripped the block. “It’s our own 9/11,” the jittery tenant from the basement apartment whispered to me. It was clear that I was going to have to do something.
As I’m a born leader, and because I have some free time on account of not having a “job,” I decided that I’d provide security for the entire block, thus allowing all our neighbours to return to their normal lives. And so, three times a day, I go on a security patrol where I march up and down our side of Madison Avenue, making sure that the perimeter hasn’t been infiltrated.
In order to command respect, one must dress the part. When would-be-thieves see me, I want them to stop and think, “there’s a classy and intimidating man, a leader, I don’t want to get on his wrong side!” To help accomplish this, I’ve been dressing in a black, pinstripe suit. I always wear a Fedora, too, so that I suggest a tough-guy detective from the 40’s. Also, when I’m on patrol, I carry with me a 7-iron, that I use as a walking stick. Aware that a good catch phrase is essential when establishing an authoritative persona, I have come up with two:
1. While waving my golf club from side to side, like a disapproving finger, I say, “Not on my watch!”
2. While pointing my golf club like a sword, I say, “ That’s not cool, fool!”
*Any SERIOUS suggestions are welcome.
My first day of patrol was largely uneventful, but day II was a real shit storm. At around 1:30 in the afternoon, Heidi and I noticed an elderly Asian woman sneaking down the narrow laneway that separates two homes. Out on the sidewalk she had left a shopping cart, which was full of what appeared to be stolen property. I ran over and confronted her, (catch phrase #1) but she pretended to not understand me. When I threatened her with my golf club, she began to scream in whatever demon tongue she spoke, and started hitting me, first with her cane, and then when that broke on my shin, with an empty Pepsi bottle.
I was not going to give up my neighbourhood to thugs like her.
I twisted her arm behind her back, but just as I was about to make my Citizen’s Arrest, she somehow (Kung-Fu? Judo?) managed to flip me over her back. It was a very hot and humid day, and I must have been dehydrated, because the next thing I remember was waking up on the ground (WITHOUT MY HAT!) with Heidi licking my face.
I subsequently found out that all of the blue boxes on our street had been cleaned out. I strongly suspect that this woman, who might be part of a larger syndicate, is responsible. I have made a Wanted Poster for this thug, whom I have designated The Pepsi Dragon, and am going to post it all up and down the street. I strongly suspect that she is guilty of stealing my hat, too.
This is far from over.