Filipino Front Porch Thieves (non-fiction)

I don't remember the ride home. I never remember the ride home. I hope to God there isn't a trail of casualties left in my wake everyday after I drive home. I've been commuting for twenty-one years. That would be quite a body count. At any rate, that day the only thing I do remember is stopping suddenly in the driveway. Something was wrong with the house. What the hell?

I did seventy from the the start of the driveway to the garage, a distance of sixty feet. Slam went the car door, slam went the back the door. In through the kitchen, out through the dining room and into the living room where I found Sven and Paul watching 21 Jump Street.

It is amazing how often 21 Jump Street was on the television in that house. I don't know why. We didn't even like the show. We were too poor to afford full blown cable. We were never sober enough to work the channel guide so four bachelors ended up sitting around, swilling beer and watching 21 Jump Street. Except for Sven. He could always find cartoons. Anytime of day, Sven could find cartoons. In a pinch, he'd settle for Spanish cartoons. 21 Jump Street in Spanish? Not so good.

So Sven and Paul were watching 21 Jump Street when I came rushing into the room in a panic. To them, nothing was the matter. All was well. What could possibly be wrong?

"Guys, what happened to the front porch?"

Paul replied, "Oh, you noticed that?"

I did a double take. I guess I knew I was being put-on but I pressed forward anyway.

"Seriously, where's the front porch?"

Paul again, "It's gone."

"Dude, this isn't funny. This is bad. We'll never get our security deposit back if we can't find the front porch. Where did it go?"

Paul pointed to couch, "I just got home. Ask Sven. He was here all day. Not me."

Nevermind the fact that Sven was sitting three feet away from Paul drinking beer. Always one to follow direction, I did as recommended.

"Sven, what happened to the front porch?"

"Some guys took it."

"What?! What the hell are you talking about? Who took the porch?"

Paul interjected, "That's what he said when I asked him. He said some guys took the porch."

Now I was getting upset. These guys were messing with me. Alright, I'll play along.

"Were you home all day?" I asked Sven.

"Yes."

"Where were you when you were home all day?"

"On the couch."

I could have guessed that, but I had to start out small and work my way up.

"What were you doing on the couch all day?"

"Watching cartoons."

Big surprise.

"Right, and while you were watching cartoons, some guys showed up and made off with our porch, is that it?"

"Yes."

"Wha-what?!"

"Some guys took the porch."

Paul spewed beer and laughed.

Pause.

"Well, why didn't you stop them?" I asked.

"I tried to stop them" answered Sven.

"What did you do to stop them?"

"I opened the front door and said 'Hey, stop that. Go away! Shoo! Shoo!'"

Paul was now doubled over and convulsing with laughter.

"What did 'these guys' do when you said 'Shoo! Shoo!'?"

"They just looked at me and went back to taking apart the porch. I think they were Filipino or something."

"You said 'Shoo!' Shoo!', that's it? That's ALL you did?"

"Well, what did you want me to do?"

I was stumped. I had no idea what to say. I guess I could never expect my house mates to fend off roving bands of Filipino Front Porch thieves. I went upstairs to my room, sat on my futon and looked out my window at the space that used to be occupied by our front porch.