So let me flesh out this story a bit...
I walked out of my house a 7:15 this morning. Ready to start my 45 minute to hour commute out to Gaithersburg, MD. As i'm steping out the front door I look and see a white SUV speeding down the street and hear a loud "car-crash bang" sound. I realize that it's my neighbor, Joe's, car and immediately start sprinting off to catch up to this asshole. I figured, it wasn't the first time I'd successfully done this around our house, why not.
So i start off at a full clip, get half a block and throw down my laptop & business suit (on a hangar for a business meeting later today) to gain a little bit more speed when it becomes apparent that I won't be catching up weighted down by 10lbs of electronics gear and the like.
On the next block I let out a roar of "STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP... GET THE FUCK OVER HERE" at which point a little girl ahead of me waiting for the bus who I hadn't noticed starts squealing. While running in the general opposite direction that I am she pleads "leave me alone!" and I just keep running chasing down the SUV.
At this point i'm able to pick out the characters "929" at the front of the plate and realize "hell, if i'm getting close enough to read the plate, then i'm gaining on this person." I hit my second wind and take off again. After 2 more blocks i've decoded the string "92953M" and begin to slack off until i realize thats only 6 while there should be 7 characters.
I then run 2 more blocks (down the center of the street with speeding cars slowing down behind me) and see the car pulling into Dematha Catholic High School.
I stand outside of the fence.
Wait for the guy to park.
Then yell:
"Congratulations, you are now officially having a shitty day."
The kid tries to play it off and pretend nothing happened and I lay it out for him.
"You've got 2 choices. Come with me you SUV driving prick or I call the cops to report a hit and run."
He mumbles something about being late for school and I tell him that I don't give a flying fuck. This is binary. He can choose the "1" or the "0".
At that point I start walking away and he quickly realizes the gravity that this entails. He begins driving after me pleading "I SWEAR i was going to stop after school.", "Is there any way we can work this out", etc, etc.
Now, i wasn't thinking about it at the time, but i'm sure speeding in an SUV and having someone that looks like this:
catch up to you on foot, verbally berate you in front of all of your friends, then drag you off is probably a very scary occurrence in the minds of most young white suburbanites.
Long story shortened, we get back to the treeswing and I start telling the kid to copy down his license number, plate numbers, and all of his contact info.
While he's doing this i wait strategically and say:
"Hey..." and he looks up.
"Right now, i'm sure you're thinking you could copy down any info that you wanted and possibly get away with this. Let me assure you I memorized your plate number and if for any reason the owner can't get in touch with you. I WILL introduce you to a wrath worse than god."
Right after saying this his *Hockey* coach drives up and starts giving me shit. I find very creative ways to tell him to go fuck himself including the word "mogoloid" and imply physical harm from the business end of a hockey stick.