A couple of weeks ago, Amanda and I went to Del Taco to grab some dinner and then walked around Target for awhile afterwards. At the crack-like dollar bins at Target, I got a mini-dry erase board and some St. Patrick’s Day socks. Amanda got a flexbinder and St. Patrick’s Day socks. Afterwards, we drove up the street to 7-Eleven and got some hot cocoa. When we started heading back to the area where we started the evening, we came upon a road blockade.
At first, we thought it was probably a terrible car accident, but we didn’t see an accident. There were two or three cop cars blocking the road and forcing us into a detour, two or three cop cars at the gas station on the corner, a few cop cars blocking off the road at the major intersection down the street, and there were cop cars parked in all of the parking lots in the shopping center between us and the major intersection. Still, we couldn’t see an accident or anyone being arrested. There were also no ambulances, so we couldn’t figure out what would require so many cops to be in one area. There was a bank in the shopping center, though, so we thought someone might have tried to rob it. Amanda drove while I searched for breaking news feeds on my phone, but I couldn’t find anything. I even downloaded a police scanner app, but we didn’t hear anything on the scanners. Meanwhile, Amanda tried to get out of the area, but we kept coming upon different parts of the blockade.
It was about this time that Amanda said she was scared that the cops would get mad at us for driving around so much. I told her that it was more likely that while we tried to avoid the blockade, the guy that robbed the bank would run up to the car, bang on my window, stick the gun to my face, and yell, “Let me into the car!” Then I would yell, “Eff you! Stabbing forever!” Then Amanda and I would jump out of the car and attack the guy. She’d throw the flexbinder over the guy’s head to blind him. We’d use our St. Patrick’s Day socks to tie him up. Then I’d hang my mini-dry erase board from his neck, and on it I’d write, “STABBING FOREVER!” Then we’d be heroes.
Amanda said that after the guy was locked up in prison, she and I would feel like something wasn’t right because we had been following the trial. We’d realize that Sargeant Sherman framed the guy locked up in prison. We’d get back on the case and find proof of Sargeant Sherman’s guilt, which would free the other guy. Again, we’d be heroes.
Then, I said that the news people would interview us. “You’ve been through so much over the past year — you were held at gunpoint, you took down an armed robber, you uncovered a dirty cop, and then took down that scumbag. You must’ve been frightened. How did you overcome your fears in order to become heroes?” I would tell the news people, “We were never really scared. It’s kind of like when a momma bear is protecting her cub and she suddenly gets superhuman strength–”
We laughed so hard at that point, that we couldn’t come up with anything else. The icing on the cake came the next day. I visited my dad in the hospital as he healed from his colostomy takedown surgery. I told the story above to my dad and stepmom and they thought it was pretty funny. That afternoon, we watched cooking shows on PBS. I pointed out how pro-knife everyone on the cooking shows were. Julia Child scored a pearl onion and I said something about how mean she was to that innocent onion. My dad said, “I’m gonna cut you deep, long, and continuous.” Jacques and Julia finished beating the hell out of some dough as my dad, stepmom, and I laughed so hard that we cried. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — I am my father’s daughter.