5 Shots Couldn't Stop Me.

Pat is my housemate. Pat does high-end remodeling for a living. Recently Pat got a promotion at work. 2 employees were fired, and Pat assumed the responsibility of driving and keeping one of the work vans at our house at night. Part of Pat's new responsibilities includes keeping the van in good repair, and keeping it organized. There are thousands of dollars of tools in these work vans. I almost forgot one of the most important parts of this new promotion: when parked at night, the van must be backed up against something. Obviously, so one cannot bust the window and thieve tools out of the back. Every night Pat backs the van all the way up our driveway getting the backdoors snug against the garage. Pat takes all of his responsibilities very seriously. As he should. It is afterall, his future.

We live in a semi-sketchy part of town. Though it is quickly improving, there is no denying the sketchiness. There have been several shootings in the area in the couple years. There are small pockets of great neighborhoods within this semi-sketchy area. We live in one of said 'pockets' of decency. Which is great. We have never ever had any problems in our neighborhood, or greater area for that matter. Even though we are a throughway to sketchier areas. Christmas comes year round in our area. One can see flashing red lights anytime they wish. But, like I said; "we've never had any problems." A positive attitude goes along way, or mayhaps 'tis just good fortune that shines over our little block of heaven. Well, good fortune can't last forever. At least not in our part of town...

"Hey Pat...it's Joe man... Fuck dude... Where are you? I caught some guy trying to break into the van. I don't know. I thought I heard something outside...next thing I know I'm chasing him down the street man, fuck. I caught up to the dude and tackled him. He he's in custody now. Don't worry man, I think we got everything he took... I just got back from the hospital a few minutes ago, I'm all right. I was stabbed in the shoulder, but I'm fine man... I can't really drive or anything, my shoulder hurts, and I don't know how many pills they've got me hopped up on, but it's a lot... Finally everything's settled down, fuck man... The van's safe, so don't worry about that or anything... I'm making some dinner now...do you think you could grab some Big Dan's Chili Sauce on your way home? I'd totally do it...but you know, my shoulder and all... I mean no worries if you can't... I just thought since, you know, I got stabbed for you... Really though, you know, if you can't pick it up, you can't pick it up... I guess I can walk or something..."

'Lazy fucking bastard' does not even begin to describe me.