Carrie Harris | Young Adult Author

Thursday, June 4, 2009

This Is Why You Shouldn't Steal My Stuff

One time, I chased a robber. This makes me sound a lot more badass than I really am.

See, it was the summer after my freshman year of college. I'd just filled my rusty little hatchback with the contents of my dorm room. I'd use the word "packed," except that this connotes some kind of organization, and I had none. I was too busy flirting with guys and cheating at euchre to do something silly like PACK. And then I drove to my mom's townhouse. By the time I got there, I was starving, and the house was empty. Mom was out, and there was nothing to eat unless you count cottage cheese, which I do not.

I hate cottage cheese with the fire of a thousand suns.

So I walked to Arby's. We didn't have an Arby's on campus, and I have always been addicted to their baked potatoes with everything. I love potatoes so much that Slayer once gave me one for Christmas. I had this sentimental attachment to it and refused to eat it, which was a bad move on my part. Diamonds last forever, but potatoes do not.

Although I'd still rather have a potato if given the choice.

I walked to Arby's and returned with my potato and a Dr. Pepper. I am now beginning to regret telling this story because I am now hungry.

My car was parked right outside the door, and the neighbors huge 80s van was right next to it. You know the kind of van I'm talking about. It was one of those purple monstrosities that look like it either belongs to a bunch of hippies or a serial killer who used to be a hippie. Either way, that thing was big.

And that's when I saw the guy crouching at the door.

It was probably a mistake for me to move all of my stuff in and leave it sitting in a heap in sight of the door. I had a stereo, a fridge, a microwave. I also had about 15 penis cozies because I used to crochet them for friends as gag gifts. And no, I never saw anyone model them. Most of them were purple. They matched the van.

Something tells me that the robber wasn't after the penis cozies.

Anyway, something inside of me snapped. I dropped my potato. My fists clenched. I barked out: "HEY! I see you!"

He ran behind the purple hippie van, and we danced a little. I watched his feet under the van and kept trying to intercept him, but he kept backing away from me. And finally, he took off running.

I ran after him. By this time, I was so hopping mad that I was shouting obscenities at him. I think I was less angry about the potential for losing my stuff and more angry at the fact that for a moment he scared me. I didn't stop to think about what I'd do if I did in fact catch him. He was a pretty big guy, and this was during my teaching-aerobics-and-dancing stage. (I did modern and jazz, not THAT kind of dancing, thankyouverymuch.) I was maybe 120 pounds on a good day. So I feel compelled to point out that while this story is hopefully amusing, please don't repeat my mistakes. I'm lucky I didn't get creamed.

Anyway, he ran a lot faster than me, because you know, he was scared that I was going to scold him to death. And then I threw my shoe at him. In his general direction, really; I was standing in the middle of the street and he was long gone by the time the shoe flew, but it made me feel better.

After scolding me, the police officer who came to take my statement asked for my autograph. Later, I figured out who the guy was. Apparently, petty thieves also like ugly purple vans.

16 comments:

Alan W. Davidson said...

I will never touch your stuff, especially your potatoes...that being said, I wonder if the potato would have survived longer if it had been dipped in some platic resin substance (or some other STUFF). I remember that when our dog was pregnant, and after she had her puppies, we fed her cottage cheese.

Aaron Polson said...

I don't need any shoes thrown in my general direction or scoldings. My hands are off. Totally.

Horror Girl said...

who wouldn't run from a scolding? i am impressed. I have no clue how i would have reacted, but something tells me it would have been a tad different

Kelly said...

You are brave!
Euchre...I haven't thought of (or played) since college!!

K.C. Shaw said...

Somewhere out there, possibly from a prison library, a guy is blogging about the time this crazy lady chased him down the street and threw a shoe at him, just because he was crouching down checking to see if his van had a leak. Really, that was all he was doing!

Kiersten said...

I think I read the term "penis cozies" about five times before my brain finally registered that the first word was, in fact, penis.

You're a strange one.

But I very much enjoyed this story, and now know exactly what to get you for your next birthday. But it's not a penis cozy.

Natalie said...

You're totally right, cottage cheese is NOT food. You dye it red and it looks like shmushed brain...

PJ Hoover said...

you crack me up on so many levels. I'm not sure where to start. But I'll go with the cozies.

Lynnette Labelle said...

LOL Yeah, I had the same scolding from a police officer after I didn't give the guy robbing me the money and escaped instead. Apparently, they'd prefer you to follow the bad guy's instructions. Ah... no. I don't think so. I've seen too many movies and read too many books where that doesn't save the woman's life. It only makes the villain's life easier.

Lynnette Labelle

http://lynnettelabelle.blogspot.com

Kristy Colley said...

I will persist that cottage cheese is food! I'll bet merjuice on it.

Jamie Eyberg said...

I always had a sneaking suspicion you were a caped crusader in your off-time.

Mariah Irvin said...

Eww. Cottage cheese is gross.

Scolding is scary.

Big Plain V said...

I might be misinterpreting your twist at the end, but, was this your neighbor, and was he NOT stealing, and did you just chase him off like a crazy person for no reason?

Carrie Harris said...

Yeah. I guess I should have been more specific. He was standing at my townhouse door, not the van door, when I came up. And there were scratches on the door jamb where he was trying to force it. But yes, he did turn out to be my neighbor.

This explains why he always looked at me like I scared him. Especially if I was wearing shoes.

Catherine J Gardner said...

I once had a guy follow me home in the middle of the night. Luckily it was the 80s and I had one of those huge belts on with an enormous buckle. I unbuckled it, turned around and waved it threateningly. He turned tail. :)

Natalie L. Sin said...

*LOL*
At least you didn't throw the potato at him!

 


© 2012 Carrie Harris. All rights reserved. Website design by Manning Leonard Krull.