JASON DILL DOESN’T DRIVE. He walks. So on Christmas morning in Ventura, California, last year, he woke up at the usual time—around 7 a.m.—stepped out his door and hoofed it the mile to Starbucks for a cup of coffee. On the way back, his coffee was getting cold, so he stopped at the Circle K to warm it back up. He added a splash of joe to his cup, saw a long line at the register, and decided that it wasn’t worth the wait.
When he got outside, he heard someone behind him say, “Hey, buddy. You gonna pay for that?” Dill turned and saw that the guy was not alone. There was a kid with him, about 16, wearing a Thrasher hoodie and Vans, worn through with skate holes.…