The Lunatic Burglars

Do you remember when you first held your driver's license in your hand and you thought you could conquer the world?  I would volunteer to help my parent's out with anything that required that I drive into town.  I wanted to drive everywhere.   

I believe I was 16 or 17 years old when, one night, my sister and I were heading home from a youth group function.  It was after midnight and I was driving (of course).  About three miles from home and in the middle of nowhere, the car died.  It sputtered it's last breath and I was able to maneuver the car to the side of the road.

This was before the time of cell phones so we knew we had two options.

1. Walk home
2. Knock on a stranger's door and ask to use a phone.

Instead of braving the darkness and a long walk, we decided to look for the most child-friendly house and beg for help.  A short ways down the road we spotted a farmhouse with tricycles and playthings in the yard. We walked up the porch steps and knocked on the door.

It was silent.

I knocked again.

Nothing.

I knocked louder.

From the shadowy recesses of the kitchen we saw a woman, wearing only a long, ugly t-shirt, dive into the next room.  Her husband ran across the same way a few seconds later and he was clutching a baseball bat. 

I realized that they probably thought we were scary, murderous lunatics who were out to get them.  I tried to explain through the door that I was not there to murder them.

It didn't work.

The woman peered around the corner and she had a phone in her hand.  Seeing this, I mustered up every ounce of courage I had and after assuring Ashley that I knew what I was doing, I cried fake tears to prove I was serious.  I even added a crack in my voice. 

"We're teenagers and our car isn't wor-r-r-king.  Can we please use your phone?  We're teenagers.  Can you help us?  Ple-e-ease?" And I cried. I was good.

The woman slowly made her way to the door and realizing that we were in fact ignorant teenagers, put down the phone and let us in.

We made it home about a half hour later.  I am sure that it took that family awhile to fall back asleep.

Two things changed after that fateful night.

1. I was less eager to run errands for my parents
2. I never ran out of gas again.  Never.