Karma

This is a word that my partner, Casey, loves to bring up a lot, and I do mean a lot. Specific examples do not come to mind at the moment, only faint flashes of Casey talking crazy talk about near death experiences due to my driving technique.

The reason I bring the word up is due to my current situation. As of an hour ago I was sitting on my couch watching "Surviving Survivor" and wondering why it was so ever loving cold in my home. At the time I thought it was because I was situated under a fan and discounted it until after the show. When I looked at the thermostat I noticed that it was 59 degrees inside. I checked the thermostat to make sure that the settings were correct and found everything to be in working order. I then went to the gas logs and attempted to turn them on. It was a no go. There was no distinctive hissing noise made when the gas was turned to on. I concluded that I am out of gas.

I called the gas company and left them a very...urgent message. Especially when I am supposed to be in the midst of another "winter event" by morning. As much fun as last weekend was, I do not want the same thing this weekend with out the insta-fire or heat in general. Hopefully, the company will find time in their busy schedule to provide a paying customer what he asked for.

Now, for the possible reasons for the karma attack. Lord, where to begin...well...there is the myriad of times that I have "almost" personally delivered Casey to Purgatory, whilst I move on to the Pearly Gates. Then there is the 1...2...3...75 Offenders that I had to...encourage back to the straight and narrow.

However, out of all that, one face sticks out. He was one of my better Offenders. Always paid his money, and on time. He stayed out of trouble, but there was one issue. He was illegal. Three months ago, I called I.C.E. (Immigration and Customs Enforcement), namely an old co-worker of mine (lets call him Special Agent A), and told him about my Offender (lets call him Mitch). Upon hearing about the charges that Mitch had (somehow getting arrested, indicted, and sentenced without Immigration ever catching wind of it) Special Agent A told me that he would look into it and get back with me. Three months later he calls me and asks when Mitch would next report. The call just so happened to be the day before the report day that I had given Mitch. Special Agent A told me that they had something they had to do on the scheduled day for Mitch to report and asked me to have him come in today. I agreed and called Mitch.

I was kind of truthful in that I told Mitch that I had a scheduling conflict and I needed him to report today. Being one of my better Offenders he agreed happily.

Well, today arrived and thankfully I was taking reports for another Agent, because I had completely forgotten about the entire episode. At the beginning of another fun filled day of reports I got paged by one of the Administrative Assistants downstairs. Being rather upset at the interruption, I kind of grunted at her over the phone. She cheerily relayed the fact that I.C.E. was here to see me and my jaw hit the floor with the realization of what I had forgotten. After picking up my jaw, I told her to send them up, and after a few minutes wait they were sitting in my office.

I told them the could wait there for Mitch and were immediately inundated with questions from my fellow Agents. Mostly trying to get their immigrants, Illegal and otherwise, off their caseloads as well.

After a few minutes, I checked the lobby and found Mitch dutifully waiting for me to call him back. Once Mitch sat down in the reporting area Special Agent A and his partner were there taking him into custody. Through the flurry of Spanish words going back and forth Casey managed to pick out a few words. "No, I'm Legal." But, the thing that I noticed most, was the fear in his eyes.

When I relayed the horrible feeling in my gut to Casey, he mentioned the fact that most offenders that we arrest only go to jail or prison after I lie to get them in my office. Mitch, would go to a Federal dentention facility somewhere in Texas, before they put him on a plane bound for his 3rd world home country of origin.

Now, with my luck, Mitch was a leader for a local sect of Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13) or a drug runner, black market gun smuggler, or just a Harrier of the worst kind that acted nice when I was around.

In any event, the Angel that goes around bestowing Karmic events has come to visit and hopefully will be gone sometime tomorrow. Hopefully, before my pipes freeze, and all the living things in my home freeze to death.

Semper Fi Deus

Goose