I guess that I am fortunate, to live in a relativity low crime rate area.
When I was about 20 and still living at home. My father had his own gas pump. Fuel started to disappear and I got the blame for it. My parents used to go camping every weekend and the guilty party knew that. I guess that they thought, I went along with them. Late one Saturday night I heard a car, looked out the window and I saw a familiar car, leaving the gas pump. I never said a word about it. The next weekend, I was waiting for his return. I sat in the dark, had the window open and a loaded 357 ready for action. Sure enough about 2 in the morning the same car appeared. I waited until he had the fuel nozzle in the filler hole. I always wanted to see if you could actually set a cars fuel tank on fire with a bullet. I fired two round at the fuel tank. I heard each round slap the sheet metal but no flames. Talk about a disappointment. The very next day, I saw the same car at our only convenience store. It had grey primer, high on the rear quarter panel and some very bad body work. I missed the fuel tank. I simply walked up to the drive, looked him in the eye and told him. If you want to know who put the two bullet holes in the car, that was me. Next time I wont aim for the fuel tank!! No more problems.
Some of the towns people still talk about that night and what I did. The word got around and to this day I don't have a problem. Most people say that I am a little crazy or at least one of me is.
Later
Dan