I made a near fatal mistake 40 or more years ago when I was young and invincible.
I was with my girlfriend shopping at a department store. While I'm standing like a good dogie holding all her bags while she was in the fitting room, I heard a commotion behind me. I turned to see a typical 60s long-haired drug addled hippie maggot with a couple full length leather coats over his shoulder heading for the door with a little old lady store clerk standing in his way telling him to stop.
The rotten SOB just back-handed her across the face and bolted out the door.
I snapped (totally) dropped my girlfriends bags and took off after him with the little old lady saying "No, No, let him go." It was winter, and the lot was icy in spots and as I just as I was ready to tackle him I lost my balance but got after him again. I was cursing a storm at him and he was telling me to butt out. I wanted to kick his ass so bad, not for stealing, but for hitting that old lady.
Finally I heard behind me "Halt! Halt!" and I though great, I have the cops here to help me. The next thing I heard was a "whiz" past my ear and then a crack of gun fire. (The bullet really does get there before the sound.)
It was a damn rent-a-cop firing at me! not at the slime ball shoplifter. I froze and put my hands above my head and by the time Barney Fife got to me, I could see the scum bag and the leather coats heading into the public housing project down the hill from the shopping center.
Barny marched me back to the store figuring he had made a big bust only to see my girl friend crying and the sales lady give me a big grandmotherly hug telling me to never to do that again. .
I haven't. A couple of leather coats ain't worth it.
I'm all for tattoing shoplifters foreheads with a scarlet letter, but it's not a good idea to shoot at them.