There have been a rash of burglaries in our neighborhood. The economy is still in the toilet and when that happens, crime increases. I get it. Over the summer, the burglaries were happening every week and those of us in our suburban neighborhood were all pretty freaked out. One victim (who happens to live directly behind my friend Jane) came home to find the burglar standing in her freaking driveway! He claimed to have stopped when he saw some teenagers running out of her house then he leaped into his car and sped ran off. The good news is that no one has been hurt, and the police now have a bit of a description of
the dirtbag him and also his car: dark silver or grey older model 4 door sedan.
A couple of days after the driveway incident, Jane and I were coming home from a glamorous evening shopping trip to Target. I think we bought undershirts for one of her daughters. By the time we got to Jane’s driveway, it was mostly dark. But we noticed a dark grey older model 4 door sedan driving slowly down her street. I am sure you are thinking the same thing we were: That has to be to be the Suburban Burglar! We sat in my car and waited for the burglar to finish driving by. It was too dark to get a look at the person driving, but that didn’t matter in the slightest. I bet you can guess what we did… We followed it, of course. How could we NOT?!
So we followed the car as it wound through the neighborhood at or below the posted speed limit (I know, we thought that was suspicious, too). There was one place where the car turned off the street and then looped around to come out on the same street a little ways down. Now, there is NO WAY someone would drive down that street unless they were
lost looking for a house to rob (or maybe if they were going to one of the houses down there, but whatever because we saw that they didn’t).
At this point, we decided that we were totally Charlie’s Angels because they were so hot and smart and bad ass and all. Jane called Our Town’s non-emergency police number and gave them the car’s license plate. Then we called Husband because he works in law enforcement, so we were pretty sure that he would recommend a
Barney Fife style Charlie’s Angels citizen’s arrest. Actually we were more like Cagney and Lacey because they were real police. And there were only two of them. And we didn’t have to fight over who got to be Kate Jackson. (Me!)
Husband: You are doing what exactly?
Jane: (Because I am driving and I would never talk on the phone while driving on official police business) We are following the Suburban Burglar! He is in a dark grey 4 door sedan! And he is driving real slow all through the neighborhood!
Husband: Did you get the license plate number?
Husband: Did you write it down?
Husband: Then stop following them and come home. You are going to get yourselves into trouble.
Me: Ugh, whatever. Jane, call Edward. (Jane’s husband, Edward, works with Husband)
Edward: You’re doing what exactly?
Jane: Tailing the Suburban Burglar!
Me: Oh, here we go again. What is wrong with these men? They are afraid of strong women, aren’t they.
Edward: Time to come home, ladies.
Finally we gave it up and went home. We
were seriously inches from ending the Suburban Burglar’s reign of terror, but it was getting close to bed time and we hadn’t had any wine yet. Besides, gas is expensive and we don’t get paid
at all enough to take this kind of abuse from our husbands. But watch it, Suburban Burglar. We have our eyes on you.