Me. The Hero.

Last Friday I was driving home from work and pulled up beside a car with a Mamaw and Pawpaw in it.  As we pulled off from the red light, I saw on the trunk, Mamaw's PURSE!  Oh dear. 

It was a brown leather clutch type purse.  Laying flat on the trunk.

I was afraid when they turned the corner, the purse would slide off the trunk into the street.

But it didn't. Whew.

And, as luck would have it, I pulled up right beside them again at the next red light.  By this point, other folks had seen the purse and were honking.  I honked, rolled my window down, waved my hands like crazy and got Mamaw's attention.

"YOUR PURSE IS ON THE TRUNK!"

"What? My purse?"

"Your purse is on the trunk.  I'll get it for you."

So I hopped out and grabbed the purse and gave it to Mamaw... Jumped back in my car, buckled up, gave them a friendly little "You're welcome" wave, and drove off.

I realized during the few seconds of grabbing the purse and handing it to Mamaw, that it wasn't a purse.

IT WAS A GUN.

oh my oh my oh my OH MY

I told the Captain about my heroic efforts of getting guns off the street in his Police Town.

Because the gun could have slid off the trunk and fallen into the hands of a houligan.

And there are two banks and a Walgreens and two gas stations and a Chic Fil A (where Jordan's Boyfriend works) and those places could have been robbed.

I prevented at least six robberies.

I saved HUNDREDS of lives.

So the way I see it... I am a hero.

And deserve a medal.  Or a commendation.  Or a certificate.  Or an article written about me in the community paper.

And he said, "Sure hope it was their gun...."

oh my...

"Or maybe they had just robbed a bank somewhere and were on the lam."

oh my...

I prefer my theory of my being a hero.

Hooray for me!