A neighbor who occasionally has morning coffee with me recently had a sad tale to tell. It was about an incident that happened to her in the middle of a sunny afternoon. She was out shopping at the nearby stores. As she walked on a fairly busy sidewalk she felt herself being shoved to the ground. As she struggled to stand up again she watched as a high school or college age kid ran off with her purse.

 

Rubbing her bruised knees she looked around for some help. In a few minutes another woman responded and helped her walk to a nearby sandwich shop where they called the police. My neighbor was unable to use her own cell phone since it was in her purse. Using the kind stranger’s cell phone she tried to describe the punk who had knocked her down.

 

“He was about 5 ‘ 10″ to 6′ tall with a gray jacket. I think his hair was blond and average length” she responded to the 911 operator on the other end of the line.

 

“First thing I saw of him was his jeans and tennis as he ran off with my purse” she added.

 

They took the name and address of the sandwich shop and said someone will be sent out right away.

 

She next called her daughter to come pick her up. The stranger asked if she’d be ok now and she thanked her for all the help and said goodbye. The sandwich shop waitress brought her a cup of coffee and said it was “a freebie” under the circumstances. Her daughter arrived and she related the entire incident to her. “I would have had my mini-stun gun in my hand if it had been even close to dark.”

 

They discussed how much the crime rate had gone up till the officer arrived. After taking all her information he mentioned she should close her checking account,

notify her Visa and MasterCard account holders. She realized horrified that “The punk has my address and all my work information.”

 

“I wish I’d had my stun gun out and given the little creep a good jolt.”

 

It was unlike her to feel such anger. She’d only had $7.00 in cash having safety in mind. She tried to smile as she vehemently told her daughter, “I didn’t want to carry cash for safety purposes. Ha ha, I wish he had a couple twenties instead of my complete identity.”

 

Might as well take home a couple subs for lunch while we’re here. Patting her jacket pocket she ascertained that her stun gun was still there and they ordered, thanked the waitress for her help and her daughter took her home. “From now on when I’m walking alone it’ll be in my hand and ready for any punk who comes along. She held up the mini-stun gun that fit so easily into her pocket. When I sense someone walking behind me – it better be a honest individual – or zap!”

 

“Mom, I’m surprised you even own a stun-gun much less want to use it with such anger. But I’d rather see you hurt someone than have someone hurt you.”

 

She gave her mom a big hug and went home after sharing lunch and more conversation about the crooks of the world and how they’re getting bolder than ever.