I didn't fight the law, but this other guy did, and the law won

The sun shines brightly over San Jose as my stepfather walks to the local coffee shop for his routine weekend pickup of breakfast bagels for the family. As he waits in line patiently, all hell breaks loose.
 

A SWAT team pulls up outside and rush out of their van. They aren’t here for bagels.

Within seconds, the whole area is cordoned off. My stepfather is prevented from returning home with his hard-earned bagels.

Back at the house, helicopters fly overhead and police cars fill the street. An officer knocks on our door. He tells my mother and I that there has been a prison break. The escaped convict knocked over a bank and is now hold up across the street from us in an empty house.

“Stay away from the windows,” he tells us as more officers and K-9s sweep through our front and backyard. “And make sure everything is locked up tight.” It’s the first time I’ve seen this many police officers swarming around my home (though not the last time).

11-year-old me is scared out of his wits (current me feels fine about the whole thing. Obviously I survived the whole ordeal. Whoops, *SPOILERS*). Mom isn’t doing much better. This is much worse than the time we were warned three convicted sex offenders moved into our neighborhood. That was more an ominous cloud hanging over my family, prompting lots of discussion on what to do if approached by a stranger. 

This is no mere cloud; this is an active tornado blowing right through my yard! A scene right out of the movies taking place across the street from me!

Minutes feel like hours as the action continues outside. Time slows to a crawl with no resolution in sight. ... Not because I’m terrified anymore … but because I’m bored.

The one thing they never show in the movies is the boredom that comes with standoffs. An 11-year-old can only stay scared for so long before a lack of action becomes too tedious. After spending the first two hours huddled together with my mother and sister, I resumed my normal weekend activities.

I played computer games and watched TV. There’s nothing else to do. If I’m going to die, I might as well stay true to my nature. Not that I was really thinking that at the time, I was just really, really bored at this point and needed something to break the monotony. Mom was doing enough worrying for both of us, so I let her handle that end of things while I played the calm one.

Four hours pass. Everything works out fine in the end. The police successfully coax the armed man out of the house and return him to custody without resorting to violence. My stepfather returns home with breakfast (now lunch). I achieved a new high score, didn’t have to take a bath, and watched Tom and Jerry beat the crap out of each other. Everyone’s happy. Except for the convict, I suppose.

Just another routine weekend. Only downside was the bagels were stale.