It's Bad Enough

. . . that I have to blog-sit for Captain America, but I have to be his own private security as well?

I'm sitting in my basement, ignoring the kids and minding my own business, when the wife sends Kyle in to me. "Dad! Mom needs you outside right away!" Swell. Keep in mind that the temperature in Philly today is currently hovering at about 90 degrees, with a humidity that would melt the cottage cheese in Michael Moore's ass.

I mosey outside to see the wife, who is pointing at the Captain's house, two doors up. "There's some guy in Anja's backyard. He's looking around, and I know they didn't plan for anyone workers to come while they are on vacation." Double swell. Now I have to go up there and lock someone up on my day off, right? Ugh. It's too hot for this.

I go inside, grab the Glock and my cuffs, hastily stuff them in my shorts, and trek over to the Captain's backyard. Our neighbor, Fire Boat John - the only one in the neighborhood with more guns that JimmyB - was already in the back interrogating the guy.

Now, you have to picture this scene. John is questioning this guy in the backyard when I walk up a la Tony Soprano getting the morning paper (left). I'm disheveled, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, trying to keep my gun and cuffs from falling out. At the same time, I'm on the phone with the Captain telling him what's going on, while he's yelling, "No one's supposed to be at my house!"

When I get to the backyard, John looks at me, stifles a laugh, and says, "You can put your gun back. This guy's an off-duty cop." It turns out that the off-duty does roofing on the side, and was looking for the right house number, but he was one street west of where he was supposed to be. Apologies were exchanged all around, and the off-duty left the scene with the knowledge that my block is probably the safest in the city.