If I was to have imagined myself getting robbed, I probably wouldn't have pictured it happening in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I go to school in New York City, and I lived in Africa for four months. But my hypothetical imagination forgot to knock on wood, so it's no surprise at all that I arrived home to a burglar in my parents' Excursion at 3 a.m. this morning.
At first, I wondered why my father was in the car so late. Then I saw a pair of stupid mitten gloves. Tired, angry and suddenly aware that a stranger was crawling through my car, I did the first thing that came to mind. I chased after the mitten-wearing scum-bag, waking my retired neighbors with a slew of threatening profanities spewing out of my small, 5'3" frame.
My dad ran outside quickly after, but the criminal had already disappeared down the side of the mountain. Thanks to good timing and spontaneous stupidity, nothing was stolen. A note to future criminals: Don't mess with short people... or families of martial artists.