I recall once coming home from an overseas trip back in the summer of 1983 when my family was vacationing with friends at the beach. Being alone in the house, I left the bedroom door open to the screened-in rear deck, locking only the patio door from the inside. Later that night I was awakened by some unusual sounds in the back yard. Looking at my watch -- the Rolex previously mentioned [note the studious effort to stay on topic
] -- and seeing that it was 1:00 a.m., I slipped on my trousers and picked up a high-powered flashlight and a loaded Walther PPK from the nightstand. I then silently eased around the door of the bedroom in the dark onto the back porch. There I could make out the silouhettes of two males busily attempting to "jimmy" the latch on the porch door.
I still recall with clarity what happened next. Disengaging the safety of the PPK, I activated the flashlight, momentarily blinding the two individuals busily engaged in their attempt at "breaking and entering," and said in a low but distinct voice, "Gentlemen, you are very close to being shot."
The two individuals both froze in place, obviously terrified -- and then I recognized them. They were two of my son's teenage friends who had assumed that the house was empty and that it wouldn't cause too much of a problem if they used the place for some late night "refreshments."
I told the two boys that they were fortunate not to have been hurt, that they should run along with whatever legitimate business they might have, and that they should never try to pull such a stunt again. I also decided that I wouldn't make an issue of the matter and wouldn't even mention it to anyone. Apparently, however, at least one of the boys learned something from the experience. The next morning, I received a call from his father who said, "I just wanted to call and thank you for not shooting my stupid son last night."