This article is part of a new series in which Becca over-dramatically recalls “cool story bro” moments from her time at USC.
It all happened so fast. I was on my way to the University Village Starbucks. All I wanted was my mocha light and to meet with a friend about shooting a hipster music video on my DSLR–
BUT NO. Instead, I walked past the UV Burger King (practically drooling over french-fry smell after eating nothing but broccoli for 2 weeks. Fuck you, broccoli) and then it happened.
A kid, maybe 14 or 15, was bolting towards me. Like, at top speed. And just like in the movies, time seemed to slow down. I couldn’t move. My thoughts were all: “That’s weird. He’s running like, really fast. He probably has to catch a bus. God I really want a Coke Zero. French fries. Jon Hamm. Wait, what–”
About .2 seconds later, a big strong fellow was screaming “GET HIM!! HE ROBBED HER!!!” at my face as he also ran past me. And all I could do was point at myself, like, “me? You want me, failed-the-Presidential-Fitness-test-exercise-induced-asthma-train-wreck-of-a-running-person to go after a burglar?” and stand there with my mouth wide open.
Since I obviously wasn’t “getting him,” the hero-guy running after the thief sprinted past me out into the street to chase down the kid. A pretty blonde girl, looking like she’d just gotten her shit stolen, also ran by a second later shouting “Get him!” Really people? I still couldn’t move.
Cars honked their horns as the chase ensued in the street and down Jefferson. I eventually continued on my way to Starbucks, but the whole thing shook me up. As I waited for my hipster music video friend, I noticed the blonde girl walking towards me and my mocha light. I realized I was sitting at the scene of the crime. !!! My creeper listening skills filled me in on how her hero, whom I originally figured was her boyfriend, was actually just some dude at a nearby table. They didn’t even know each other! He wasn’t fast enough to get her stuff back, but… still. DPS showed up later and did lots of nothing.
What a nice guy, though. Which brings me to the realization that if my shit ever got stolen? I’d hope some nice person would run after the thief.
Lord knows I couldn’t. I guess I’ll just have to work on my clotheslining skills.