BE PREPARED— NOT JUST FOR BOY SCOUTS

Survival lessons from the street, home, anywhere!

On September 11, 2007, it was my turn to sleep at my parents store so if someone decided to break into our store, I could either scare that individual away by pulling out my Rossi revolver or by beating him up so they do not ever try to break into my parents’ store ever again. Right after I had just talked to my wife, she told me to go to bed because it was late, so I would be able to get up early to open the store.

I woke up to a loud noise, right in front my parents’ store as if someone had just crashed their car into our two glass doors at around 1:30 in the morning. Always before going to sleep I put my revolver next to my foldout bed just for protection/safety. I stood up right away and looked to the right of my cookies display and saw nothing, then I looked left. I saw a young male between the age of 16 to 20 years of age. Holy cow, I was thinking to myself, this guy was so brave and thoughtless that he had the nerve to break into my parents’ store we had worked so hard for, ever since we came into the US in 1978. When we had first arrived in the US we had nothing and this young punk had the nerve to think that he can break into my parents’ store and take whatever he wanted.

I pulled out my Rosy revolver, ready to go with .357 Mag hollow points, as I jumped out from behind the cookie display to surprise him. He was so scared when I popped out from behind the cookie display with my revolver pointing directly at him. He fell on his right hand and turn around so quickly with broken glasses all over the floor running toward the broken glass door that he had just entered. He fled so fast that I did not get a good look at his face. I called my father right away at 1:35 AM to let him know that we had an attempted burglary at our store and he came out right away to fix our broken glass door temporarily with plastic cardboard. I put on my clothes to conceal my gun and walked outside to see if the would-be robber was still outside somewhere. He was nowhere to be found. He must have been so scared he ran as far as he could so I could not shoot him. It turned out that he had put four gray rocks the size of a tennis ball into a long stinky stripe sock and tossed that sock into my left glass door thereby breaking my glass door on his first attempt. Furthermore, he will never try breaking into the store again because now he knows that someone sleeps there every night and has for nine straight years.
—VQN, TX