“Kill me then! I want to die!”
His arm lowers slightly. I don’t think he was expecting that response, but I’ll be damned if I let him jack my car and leave me alive in a world where people jack cars in broad daylight in grocery store parking lots on Sunday afternoons.
“Just give me the keys, ma’am.”
“Ma’am! Do I look like a ma’am to you?” The gun starts to shake in his hand. “Why stop at petty criminal? You have the gun. Shoot!”
But another shopper, who could’ve been a linebacker, tackles him to the asphalt first.
Damn.
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