I used to think I was safe where I live. That was before my husband . . . then boyfriend . . . came to live with me. Yes, yes . . . we lived in sin. Whatever.
Anyhoo, I used to think I was safe until he set up the police scanner and I heard all the dispatches for crimes going on all over the place around me. Holy cow! Who knew?
What's worse is a lot of the goings-on were going on right across the street from my condo. Not that there's a lot of violent crime going on there, but there are plenty of shopliftings . . . and by plenty I mean at least daily and often more than once a day.
Shoplifting wouldn't necessarily be a crime that would involve your average citizen. Unless, of course, that average citizen happens to live in a condo behind the store being heisted and said condo happens to have a gated courtyard where said heisters may seek refuge.
It has happened on more than one occasion that we've heard on the scanner that they thought someone was hiding out in our courtyard and more than once that we've seen police officers poking around looking for these hoodlums.
Well, the other night it happened yet again that some crook was taking cover amongst the porches and shrubberies of our courtyard. So what does my hubby do? Does he arm himself in an effort to protect his meek, defenseless wife from the potential threat? Or does he make sure that the entryways are secure? No, he hops up from the couch, throws opens the sliding door leading into the back and announces in a sing-song voice . . . "They're coming for youuuuuuuu."