You Don't Do That!

As was evident in my last post, I tend to dish out lectures. It's not something I'm proud of, and I would hope that as I've gotten older I've given fewer of them. But the truths are these: I have a noticeable justice bone in my body, and I am a teacher. Put the two together, and voila: a lecture issues forth whenever people get out of line, at least if my urges are left unchecked.

So, here's my story.

It was a day off school, Veterans' Day or Memorial Day or some such holiday. I was in my little apartment near the orange grove off Mountain View Street, and had availed myself of a little nap. Perhaps I'd been watching videos or some such activity the night before. In any case, a midday nap for a teacher feels rather decadent.

I woke to the sound of a door closing. Odd, I thought. Someone is in my apartment!

I wasn't fearful. I just wanted to know why someone had entered my little abode. So I got up and went out into the living room/kitchen area to investigate. No one was there.

Hmmm... I knew someone had been in my house. I was sure I hadn't dreamed it. I wandered barefoot out the door and down the path, trying to find that elusive person.

There, in a catering truck parked out under the carports, I found him. A guy was sitting in a truck, and when I walked up to the truck, I saw that he had my purse on his lap and was going through my wallet.

"HEY!!!" I said in full indignation. "That's mine! You give that to me!!!"

And he did. "I thought it was my friend's purse," he said. "I thought it was her apartment."

"You don't just walk into someone's apartment without being invited!" I was incensed. "And you don't just take someone's purse. That's wrong."

"She owed me money," he mumbled.

"I don't care what someone owes you," I lectured. "You do not walk in and help yourself. You don't do that. You ask."  I stopped for a moment, and then delivered my punchline.  "Don't you EVER do that again."  And I stalked off.

No, I did not remember to get his license plate, and no, I didn't call the police.  And yes, everything--all the money, my credit cards, and so on--were still safely in my rescued purse.

Don't mess with an elementary teacher, I'm tellin' ya.