Sometime back, in a city far away, I met and began dating a girl I will just call HotStuff. I treated HotStuff like a princess and things went well for a while. Then things changed. HotStuff was letting herself be picked up on the street by punky boys. I walked away from HotStuff and I thought that was the end of HotStuff related things.
Later one of the larger punky boys grabbed me on my beach area street and threatened me, supposedly because I mistreated HotStuff.
(I appear to be an average sized guy. I am actually five foot ten inches tall and 195 pounds of lightning quick, Kung Fu warrior.)
I did what they call, in the street, beat the crap out of punky boy. I inflicted no permanent damage (as far as I know) but I left punky boy in a lot of pain. I then called the police.
It seemed that big punky boy had quite the rap sheet, including things like domestic abuse, assault and battery and just assault. Punky boy had pending charges. The police threw punky boy's ass in jail.
I could see future assaults, including armed assaults.
I decided to address the matters.
I mined the street for information.
HotStuff had several punky boys who hung around her apartment.
I got license and VIN information from several cars parked in front of HotStuff's apartment and also down a side street.
A side street car was in possession of 'Don Juan' (not his real name.) DJ was in possession of a really flashy car, but DJ was not current in his payments to a lender. The lender had designated DJ's car as a 'double bonus car,' for the repo guy who could turn in DJ's ride.
(I attended an inner city high school. The high school wanted me to memorize poetry. I wanted to learn to program computers. I got a work study gig and my work study company kept the worst of the memorize poetry people off me. I was a failure at memorizing poetry, but a prize winning student at programming computers. Poetry is a starvation skill. Programming computers is a well paid, professional skill. I graduated college at 19 years old, with quite a bit of help from Secretaries at my work study company. Along the way, street fighting Bad Jim also got a Kung Fu education.)
What I do, for my employer, is computer software. I also work with computer hardware guys. One of the computer hardware guys makes 'electronic keys,' that will open and start just about any car.
I make sure that the car that DJ is in possession of is indeed a double bonus car.
I check that DJ has parked his car on the usual side street, on a Friday, and I rent an electronic key from my hardware buddy.
I leave my car perhaps a mile from where DJ has parked his car, on the usual side street, and walk to DJ's car. I use the rental electronic key from my hardware buddy. The electronic key gets me into DJ's car and starts DJ's car with no more trouble than the usual metal key. I ease DJ's car through several side streets and into a repo car lot. Well, not quite into a repo car lot.
Big Henry is the night guard for the repo car lot.
I don't get the car into the repo car lot, until Big Henry checks the hot sheet.
Big Henry growls, "Double bonus car, you lookin' good."
I say, "Class tells."
Big Henry says, "Yeah, a classy car thief."
I say, "I prefer to think of myself as a finance adjuster."
Big Henry asks, "Yeah, what about the guy that you stole the car from?"
I lecture, "I work for the finance company, not the deadbeat. I have solved the problem that the deadbeat had about making the monthly payments on his car loan. I have helped the loan company to stay in business, to pay their employees and to pay taxes. Also, I have helped the deadbeat to improve...