Luckily, I don’t have an abundance of stories to share on this topic. But… having lived in Atlanta for six years, there are a few things. I mean seriously. Atlanta is one of the shit stolen capitols of the world. I had a lot of my shit stolen there.
Well, not a lot. But some. Below I’m going to give you a brief rundown of the times I’ve been burgled over the years. Then you guys can take it from there, with your own rundowns. Sound good? Good.
When I was eighteen or nineteen, a person or persons waltzed into our house and jacked some of our stuff. The doors weren’t locked, because that’s the kind of town Dunbar was back then, so I can’t really say they broke in. But it sure felt like it.
They took our Intellivision console, a bunch of cartridges, and cash from my brother’s paper route collection bag. I think there were other things missing as well, but that’s all I can remember right now.
It had to be someone we knew, because the cash was hidden away and they went straight to it. My mother has a theory, and still clings to it. The only problem? I was with the person she suspects, so it couldn’t have been him. We were drinking vodka and Five Alive that day, and you can read about the episode here.
I really don’t know who was responsible, but it still makes me mad. If they’d trashed the place, looking for something of value, it might not have been so bad. But this “burglar” knew exactly where everything was hidden. And I was probably nice to them, the next time we talked…
When I lived in the Arrested Development house in Atlanta, I had to drag my spent and horrible draws to a laundromat on Briarcliff Road, then carry them up a couple flights of stairs to my apartment.
One night I had two baskets of stuff, so I parked in the driveway (about six feet from the house!), and took the first one up. And when I returned, the trunk of my car was open and the second basket was gone.
I can’t remember if I’d just lowered the trunk lid without latching it, or what. But I certainly didn’t leave it standing wide open, because when I saw it that way I instantly knew something was wrong.
Some bastard had stolen my clean clothes! Including my favorite, perfectly faded, jean jacket. I couldn’t believe it; for a few minutes I was completely wild, shouting profanity and vowing revenge. Man, I’m still getting a little worked-up, just thinking about it….
For the next few weeks I was on high-alert for some dusty turdchunk street person, wearing my prized jacket. I knew I’d eventually spot him, but never did.
And what the hell? I was gone for twenty seconds. Were they lying in wait, these laundry-nappers, off in the shadows until the opportunity arose? Man, that one really bothered me.
I also had my car window smashed while living in that place. Someone stole my stereo, and cleaned out the spare change on my console. But that comes with the territory, and didn’t upset me as much. If you choose to live in a tiger cage, you’ve got to expect a few maulings, here and there.
When I called the cops (strictly for insurance purposes, believe me), they had a voicemail system, I remember. For shootings, press one. For stabbings, press two. If someone doused you in gasoline then set your ass on fire, press three.
Atlanta.
And about the only other episode I can remember, is when someone went into my office in California, and cleaned out my CDs. Inside an office building! With security cameras everywhere.
I was livid, and sent a scorched-earth email to everyone in the building. My boss told me I probably should’ve excluded the CEO and his lieutenants, but funk dat. I was wild with anger, and those guys needed to know about the thieving sons-a-bitches they had working there.
But nobody seemed to think it was a big deal. I couldn’t get them to review the security tapes (maybe because there weren’t any? I don’t know), and everyone kept telling me to calm down.
There was a stereo in my office, and I kept twenty or so CDs in there, to play during the day. They were in a drawer, and this person took every one of them. It happened overnight, after everyone had gone home. The cleaning crew? I don’t know, but that would be a damn good place to start the investigation. Don’t you think?
But nobody gave a crap, except me. There was no investigation, not even a hint of one. <sigh>
And now it’s your turn. Tell us about the shit you’ve had stolen over the years. I think I’ve gotten off easily, considering. What about you?
Use the comments link below, to tell us all about it.
And I’ll see you again tomorrow.
Yes!
No!
Surprisingly after living in San Francisco for the last 22 years (in the Haight Ashbury, no less) and all the questionably characters that have passed in and out of my life, I have never had a single thing stolen. As soon as I wrote that I remembered this:
My parrot was stolen from my house. That’s right: my parrot. I received a phone call the next day and a whispered voice told me where the parrot could be found. I phoned the police who though I was involved with drug lords or something. They staked out the gas station where the whisperer said the parrot would be and we waited. After an hour, no on showed with the bird, so the cops said they were leaving. Well, I wasn’t leaving until I searched the place. My roommate found Percy (the parrot) in one of my pillowcases next to the dumpster. We took him out and he said “Hi! How are you?” The cops thought that was hilarious. The left. I took the bird to the vet and he had a mild case of heat stroke (it was hot out that day). Never found out who took him, but I have my suspicion. My roommate was dating a guy who had just gotten out of San Quentin. I remember him once asking me how much the bird was worth. I guess when he say how torn up I was about it, he felt bad and made the whispering phone call. I saw him again about 6 years later and he asked me if i thought Percy would remember him. Yes, I believe he did it.
Happy Tuesday, Surfers!
????
I have found that most people at work don’t give a shit about stuff being taken from your desk. It is only when it happens to them, that they get upset.
Top ten again? Whoah…
Stolen…my dignity? Can’t think of anything except maybe a cigarette lighter or a few pocketknives. Once had my apartment broken into accidentally by a drunk trying to get into the wrong apt., but they didn’t take anything. Knock on wood…I don’t need to tempt fate.
Being in and around the Thievery Corporation that is Philadelphia for twenty some years, why yes, I have had a few things stolen:
-My parents’ garage was broken into and my much loved ten speed was stolen. The ‘rents replaced it with some awful broke down, hot pink contraption, which finally convinced me to start driving a car (sneeeeaky).
-At college, I left my bag for a few minutes with a friend, who must have been distracted by something shiny because when I returned, my bag was totally cleaned out. Car keys, books, etc. I was nearly fired from my retail job as the shop keys were on my key ring.
-A crazed crackhead (is there any other kind?) cornered me on Market street demanding the pocket change I was preparing for the subway. I immediately handed it over to prevent incident. Meanwhile scads of people roamed by averting their eyes. Moral of the story: keep your gawd damned change in your pocket until the last possible second!
I count myself among the lucky that I was only robbed three times. Conversely, when I went to Clarion for grad school I had a blond moment and accidentally left my bag in the cafeteria for three hours….and it wasn’t touched at all!! Huh.
I’ve had two, TWO bicycles stolen. One was a trusted childhood friend, so that hurt. The other was my primary source of transportation at the time, so that really hurt, add to that that it happened while the better part of my brigade was out in the field, meaning some low-life REMF (look it up) took my bike. That was really a pisser.
I also had two car tires punctured, and I think that made me angrier than the outright thefts.
Great. Now I’m pissed off all over again, just reliving the traumas.
Years ago, before the interwebs, I ordered 2 paintball guns from a catalog. When UPS delivered the package only one was enclosed, called the company they said they shipped 2, called UPS and they shrugged their shoulders. Fuckers. It was a lot of money to me back then, not to mention I had to share a gun with my brother when we went paint balling.
But what chaps my ass more than anything is some sum bitch stole my “Fuzzy’s” coffee mug of my office desk. Fuzzy’s was a nightclub/dive bar in Atlanta. I’d been there a couple of times and the mug just reminded of the good times, not so much at Fuzzy’s but there is another place close by but we always finished the night at Fuzzy’s. Bastards even kept all the pop tabs I had stored in it. I ever find you and I’ll feed you a shit n mater sammich!
WTF is up with this bitch not remembering my name and e-mail, that’s twice this week, I can’t beleive it didn’t dump my comment.
i before e except after c, and a handful of others I can’t remember, but I’m pissed thinking about my mug.
Years ago I was moving to a new place across town. While my brother was helping me unload a u-haul full of furniture and other big stuff, my car was parked at his house (in a not-so-nice part of town) loaded with boxes of smaller stuff (books, videos, clothes, etc.). After returning the u-haul we went back to his house and, you guessed it, my car was gone. We called the cops, and they had already found it just a few blocks away, empty. Most of my clothes, cds, and other valuables were in there. Not to mention they also got a very nice guitar and a decent set of golf clubs. The cops said to watch the pawn shops, but nothing ever turned up.
A few months later the new apartment was broken into, but all they took was a playstation 2 and a couple of games. The cops said it must have been kids because my roommate’s checkbook was sitting right next to it and they didn’t mess with it.
Window smashed out of my ’83 chevy van.
They took 3 dollars in quarters but left 23 dollars in pennies and a full carton of cigarettes, go figger…
I’ve never had anything all that valuable stolen, but I’ve had my share of stuff swiped: Perhaps a couple of bikes. One was stolen in front of about 100-150 spectators in front of the Whitney Museun in NYC. To this day, I still take my hat off to such a ballsey thief. Some CDs, cassettes (anyone remember them?), etc from cars that I’ve driven in the past.
I did once have my heart stolen by a dame….
All dames are alike. They reach down your throat,grab your heart, and pull it out. Then they throw it on the floor, and they step on it with their high heels. They spit on it, shove it in the oven, then cook the shit out of it. They slice it into little pieces, slam it on a hunk of toast, and they serve it to you. They expect you to say, “Thanks, honey, it’s delicious.”
I’ve had a purse stolen out of my car while inside a bar.
We’ve had a 14′ extendable alum ladder stolen off our back porch and an old stereo stolen off our enclosed front porch. and just recently, probably the same neighborhood creep took $1.20 in change we had left outside our door for New Year’s good luck.
In high school, some redneck stole my brothers Notre Dame Jacket. Mind you high school, brothers jacket, worth about 2 dollar, but I liked it. Plus it wasn’t mine. stole out of my locker, and I was pissed. I had about 50 people in my class…so really where were you going to wear it?? Not to school…maybe the tractor pulls, or to impregnate your cow??
I hope I teach my children, respect for yourself, other people and their property. That should get you thru life in decent shape, I would think. People aren’t taught that anymore.
Knucklehead, glad your parrot survived being kidnapped. good story, though.
Lee Harvey: Holy Crap! Somebody done somebody wrong!
I have had a few things stolen over the years…but one that really bites my bubbles. Years ago when I moved The Rocks near PGH we decorated the front of our house with those old fashioned Christmas lights…you know…the big bulbs that are actually screwed in. The smart ass kids in the neighborhood would steal them. Actually have the balls to come up onto my front porch and take the time to unscrew those bitches!! And not just one…a whole freakin row! Ankle-biting Mo’Fo’s
Oh! And one other time I used one of those pumpkin carving kits to carve some elaborate-ass punkins for my porch. Took me hours. Some little fuckers stole them too. Halloween is my absolute favorite but that was the last time I put anything outside.
A few things . .
Long ago my husband picked me up from a long trip and when we got home we just crashed in the family room leaving the garage door open . ..
Dog starts going ape and all we do is keep saying “SHUT UP POPPINS”.
Yep she was doin her job – somone, must have been kids, walked in garage and grabbed two AWESOME bikes and made their getaway.
Actually glad we ignored her . .to this day my husband makes his ‘macho husband noises’ sayin “Good thing I didnt go out there . .would beat the “crap” outta them” . . .uh huh . .
and we’ve had our bags of recycling stolen twice . .until we put them in the backyard WITH the 90 pound german shepherd . . .
Good Afternoon Surf Reporters……
Gretchen! We’re Golden Eagle Alumni.. class of 89 here, you?
On to the thievery and plundering….
Personally, the only thing I can remember was a diamond tennis bracelet I had bought my wife when we were first married. OK OK, they weren’t real diamonds, they were CZs, nonetheless it set me back a few bucks. I knew, and still know to this day it was the babysitter. Nothing else was missing & a day or two before, the sitter had mentioned how beautiful she thought it was. So, she stole it.
My Grandma had had her apartment ransacked while she had been in the hospital. Turned out it was the 2 crackies that lived next door. They stole antiques, the silver service, jewelry, credit cards(racked up over several thousands of dollars). They were busted when the police came knocking a few days later to ask if they had seen anything suspicious (besides themselves) in the neighborhood in the days before. Lo and behold, Grandma’s silver tea pot along with the credit cards were in plain sight on the table in the living room.
Final break in story, and my favorite.
I was away from home at school and both parents worked during the day. 2 high school kids skipping class decided to break in the house. At the time we had a German Shepherd, however he was far past his prime. From what we could tell, they used a golf club that had been in the corner of the room to keep the dog at bay until they could get out of the room and close the door.
They proceeded to steal a piggy bank of loose change, a fifth of Wild Turkey and a pack or Parliament cigarettes that had the Presidential Seal and had come from Air Force One. Before they took off with their booty, they turned on a clothes iron and left it face down on the ironing board, hoping to torch the house and cover their tracks. But the iron was fitted with a safety switch that shuts off after a minute or two. Plus they left their fingerprints on the iron as well as everything else all over the house.
But the kicker is this; they made off with 20 bucks in change, a bottle of booze and a pack of smokes. They left behind pretty much everything my mom and dad had worked for in the previous 30 years. Gold & silver jewelry, a few diamond rings, 2 pistols, 4 shotguns, etc.etc.
And when I think back on this, I always wish that my dog would have been 5 or 6 years younger. Mom and Dad would have come home to two dead and dismembered teenagers in the spare bedroom & one good guard dog.
Had my bike stolen…I loved that bike…would ride for hours and hours…I had thighs like Apollo. Not after that tho. Had a radio stolen from my VW bug. That one really pissed me off because I found out it was stolen by a guy I knew.
Had a beautiful woman steal my innocence, but I didn’t ask for it back.
Jeff, didn’t a pack of teenage jackals steal your beer cooler one time while camping? I seem to recall that story from the past.
I had my greenish-brown ’73 Torino stolen. It had my briefcase in it with my business papers, and my Creedence tape.
Last summer while I was on vacation my house got broken into. They took a couple of expensive pistols and my chainsaw. The chainsaw made me the most mad because it was an old Stihl I had inherited from my dad.
Juancho – The Dude abides. 😉
When I was a kid, the babysitter made off with a pair of my shoes. When my mom even went over to talk to the girl’s mom about it, the evidence was in plain view. The babysitter’s mom claimed the shoes belonged to her, not her daughter. Funny thing is that the shoes were from Germany and not sold in the US. Never got the shoes back though, and we never used that babysitter again so in essence, the stupid girl gave up a regular money-earning gig for the price of a pair of shoes. Short-sighted if you ask me.
My (former) best friend’s brother rolled and totaled her car years ago and sadly, the vehicle contained my entire cassette collection, which was on loan to said friend. The collection was not salvaged before the car was crushed, and I never saw a penny restitution. A few years ago, my sister regularly left her car unlocked, windows down, just asking to be robbed. Unfortunately, when it happened, the thieves took some of my stuff that my sister had commandeered for her own use — a bunch of my CDs and my favorite jacket, which had a lot of sentimental value. Again, I never saw any money or replacement items, however. Grrrrrr.
Note: If you borrow someone’s shit and lose it (have it stolen), you are on the hook to replace what is missing. Ask Judge Judy. She’ll tell you.
While visiting my sis in Misoula, MT for T-day back in the ’90s, my car was prowled. At first I only missed the excellent tape collection, including a number of irreplaceable radio shows I’d done in college days. The next day while driving through the neighborhood with a load of friends in the car, I spotted some girls walking down the street, one of which was wearing the crappy windbreaker I’d forgotten was also in the car. All six of us piled out and confronted her, surrounded until the cops came. I told her I wouldn’t press charges if I got the tapes back but she clammed up. A return trip to juvie for her — she was 14.
Had my (unlocked) car prowled in the quiet burb we live in — nothing much of value lost — at the time I had a search dog and he and I worked around the area and he located a bunch of the stuff the thieves had tossed in a blackberry thicket up the street, including items from neighbor’s cars. He got some extra scoobie snacks that night.
It had been a strange winter here in Nort Cacalaky and the signs were there that a snow was on the way. You could almost feel it in the air. As I waltzed the aisle of BJ’s one day, I noticed they had a few snow shovels left and since my old snow shovel had rusted and fell apart, why not get a new one. So, along with my weekly fix of Le Gruyère cheese, scallops and t-bone steaks, I carted off a brand new snow shovel. I was proud of my new purchase and felt ready to take on even the heavyest snow the elements could through at me. The sky was turning gray and you could feel it in the air. At snow storm of ws about to dump it’s massive weight upon the residents of Nort Cacalacy and might real quick too! I woke up that next day to a blanket of white on the ground and Ginge anxious to get out and bury her nose in some snow. The legal stuff folks, what kinda dog do you think I have? I dressed in some warm apparel, grab my brand new trusty shovel, a bag of snow melt and a large cup of hot coffee and went to work on th e driveway. The new shovel made easy work of the overnight deposit and I looked back at the work I had done. The snow shovel was so deadly, in fact, that my enemies would go blind from over-exposure to the pure awesomeness! Proud of my crowning achievement, I placed the snow shovel to the side of my house and went in to soothe my now aching muscles. It was predicted that we might get another dusting and I wanted to be prepared so I decided not to store it in the tool shed. So, I think you know where I’m going with this. Next morning, I come out to find that the predicted snow never came but someone had visited my driveway and my brand new slighty used only one time show shovel was no where to be found. Per chance I had placed it in the tool shed and just forgot about it, I ventured back to look. To my dismay, no brand new snow shovel, just the two pieces of the one that got broke. Anger filled my thoughts, not at the thief but at myself for falling into complacency and expecting that no one would want to steal a snow shovel. Then I my mind snapped and I cursed the day that it would every snow again in Nort Cacalacky that the person who took it would never get to use my coveted prize, ever!
The only other thing I had stolen was my heart. Sometime about late September, eh, I’ll leave that one alone.
Juancho – they got em working in shifts! …. leads!
Whne I was a kid our house was broken into as we slumbered upstairs. They made off with a COLOR TV (this was like 1969) and tossed my mom’s handbag out the window. Oh and my mom went down to get a bottle for my baby sister and the burglers were in the house at the time. They unplugged a clock on top of the TV and my mother figured she walked by the door while they were in there. Yep, 40 years later and i still get the fucking willies thinking about it.
Some fuckers stole my father’s car out of the train parking lot. They took it for a joyride and left it around the corner from our house.
I’ve had a wallet stolen. No cash but a lot of pictures. I never carry any photos in my wallet anymore.
Oh, It did snow twice but it never stuck. It will be a cold day in hell before that thief gets to use that snow shovel.
I had about 20,000 baseball cards stolen from my apartment in St. Charles, MO about 20 years ago. I didn’t really have anything else of value except a couple of VCR’s (hey – they were expensive back then!!!), my cheap-ass TV and my Jack Daniels under the kitchen sink. No jewelry, no credit cards or cash lying around. Just about 90,000 baseball cards that I’d been collecting for a few years.
The bastards must have gotten tired and/or figured to come back to get the rest because as I wrote, they only took 20,000 or so of the 90,000 available. And they took the wrong ones – missing the sets that had Roger Clemens, Cal Ripken, Ricky Henderson, Wade Boggs & Tony Gwinn Rookie Cards in them.
I actually filed an insurance claim and – being the nerd that I am – produced Excel spreadsheets showing the identity, quantity and “catalog value” of each card stolen! I told the insurance company that they weren’t really worth the catalog value but if I had to replace them, it would cost more than the catalog value. As I recall, they wound up paying the catalog value, or about 1100 bucks. I think I spent the next year hoping the thieves would come back for the rest so I could collect on them. 1100 bucks for 20,000 cards that a sports card dealer would have barely offered me a hundred for, had I dropped them at his shop! He/they were also the guys that I so hungrily bought them from over the years.
I guess someone stole my comment about Foo Fighters fightin’ foo, cuz it’s gone!
Lee Harvey: Holy shit, “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid!”!!
JCIII: I was at Clarion for a year of grad school, but I will fondly remember it as the best year of my life. Graduated in ’98.
If I get going about stuff I’ve had stolen I’ll be kicking the dogs and foaming at the mouth in no time. I can not stand theives.
Which is why you all should elect me Emperor.
I will put a stop to crime pretty much overnight.
All cable, satelite and other television providers will be required to broadcast “The Execution Channel” 24/7.
Anyone convicted ot what I condiser a major crime (Murder, Rape, Armed robbery, theft of more than $75, child molestation and any other crimes that really piss me off) will have their executions broadcast live. And it won’t be quick.
After people get the idea that having to die screaming just isn’t worth it crime will become a huge rarity.
Oh, I know it will still happen (you can’t underestimate stupid or evil) but the rates will be low, low. low. Recidivism will be a thing of the past.
There will also be a punishment channel where people convicted of minor crimes ( theft under $75, car stereo’s that sound like a marching band is coming down the street half a mile away, graffiti painting, and other stuff that merely irritates me) will be flogged in the style of the British Royal Navy circa 1800.
So remember, if you want safety and liberty, vote Jorge The Terrible for Emperor.
Thank you.
Lee Harvey,
One of my favorite films, and you hit the line right on the screws, I believe. And it worked well in context. Nice job.
.
Gretchen,
Damn, you’re like 1.5 generations younger than me. But you seem to be an hour ahead of me all the time. DMDWP is one of my favorites. It’s kind of funny, because I like the script/story and think the old films just get in the way. Had Steve had more confidence at the time, I think he could have hit a homer. C’est la guerre…
jtb
And by the way, Jeff. That new “Further Evidence” icon is pretty close to the line, even for you. But I like it, I like it.
jtb
Oh, I’ve had my fair share!
-My parents’ house got broken into about 10 years ago when I was about 20. A gold necklace/bracelet was stolen that belonged to me, along with an inappropriate videotape I had made for my long-distance boyfriend. (Although I didn’t divulge that info to the police or parents…) My mom got the worst of it though. Her mother & grandmother’s old antique jewelry were all stolen & since they were dead they held lots of sentimental value for her. A very old coin collection she poured over for years was taken, a loss of more than $15,000 easy. Sad.
–About 5 years ago my boyfriend (not same one as before) were moving out of our apartment. I had loaded my Ford up & ran upstairs to lock our apartment door. Came back down (all of 45 seconds) & my passenger side window was broken into & our digital camera off the seat was gone. They left everything else crammed in there. Fuckers.
–Same boyfriend & I got a house on December 23 of last year. Right in time for Christmas. By January 3 we entered nightmare-ville when it was broken into & all of his tools were stolen. $1500 worth of tools & we didn’t get a damn dime from insurance, because they said our policy was “too new”. WTF?! Three days later, we were broken into AGAIN & scrap metal from renovations we were doing was taken. A week later, we had another break in, but nothing was stolen, but windows were broken. We promptly moved in, got a great alarm system & haven’t had any issues since. All the replacement tools were bought @ Harbor Freight *shudder* & have cost about $1000.
Nothing says housewarming like 3 break-ins in one month. Grrrr…..
Hey Jorge – I will vote for you. I need some new entertainment on my BAT.
I have never had my house broken into. (There! I said it and tempted fate. I will report as soon as the burglary happens). I have always maintained that that if someone did break into my house, they would look around at all the shitty crap I own, feel sorry for me, go out and rob someone else’s house and bring me the spoils.
My last 3 cars have been stolen (and recovered).
Two stories:
–I lived with a gal, Regina, who had a BF who worked in a garage. As we were moving out, she saw me with my jeans jacket, and accused ME of stealing HIS dirty ole thang. Mine was, like, Calvin Klein women’s or something–CLEARLY not a garage jacket with his name on it. But she never forgave me for stealing his jacket.
–When I lived in the campus ghetto, I used to leave my old old old bike not locked up. One day, it went missing. I saw some guy riding it about 6 months later–hauling his ass up a big hill on my old squeaky bike!
Gretchen –
speaking of Foo Fighters, I saw this today. It perfectly sums up my addiction to caffeine…..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhdCslFcKFU
Letterman’s contract with CBS stipulates that any time his name or words are used on the Web, Sumner Redstone can spider on out and take it back, like a thief in the night.
Sorry, Gretchen. I assumed you had asked Dave before quoting. Just live normally, but check over your shoulder for spiders and other strangers for a week or so. Good luck.
jtb
JCIII: Shit, dude. Maybe that’s the real reason Kurt offed himself.
Johnthebasket: Damn spiii-ders (said like They Might Be Giants)!!! I didn’t go to grad school directly after undergrad, so maybe I’m only one generation behind you (I’m 37).
In 88, I was working in DC and driving a car equipped with a cassette player, so I was only able to listen to CDs using a portable CD player and one of those cassette adaptors with the long wire coming out of the side. I used to just sit the CD player on the front passenger seat while I was driving around. And back then, portable CD players were _expensive_ – this Technics (with a battery that probably weighed 2 pounds) cost me about $250.
One day, I had to run into a building on Capitol Hill to pick up a copy of a report – so I parked illegally right in front of the door, (thought) I locked the car, and ran in and out past at least a half-dozen Congressional police on the front steps. Total time: less than 60 seconds.
When I got back, I found the car was unlocked and the CD player (of course) gone.
But the most infurating thing – the thief had checked the player and ejected the CD, leaving it sitting right on the seat where the player had been! (Guns n Roses – Appetite for Destruction, FYI). So not only did this guy walk away with my expensive electronics, he totally pissed all over my musical tastes while doing it.
I’ve had other stuff stolen over the years, but nothing has ever made me so mad.
Wow, there’s some real shit tonight. I guess I’ve been lucky, all of my stolen goods have always been worth nothing. The story value was worth more than the stolen item. Years ago I was in a seedy part of Niagara Falls (Canada) at a “club”. There were 30 or 40 cars in the parking lot and the only place left to park was in the pee-stinkin’ dark corner near the dumpster. I might as well have left the car unlocked just to save them the trouble. Anyway, about two hours later someone comes in the club hollerin’ like they just won at wheel-o-fortune. At first everyone but the bouncer just ignored them, until they yelled, “every car in the parking lot has done been robbed!” A lynch mod rushed out to the parking lot to find all 30 or 40 cars with every door/hatch/gate wide open. Every stereo, CD, electronic device and every penny of change was gone. The plaid mod quickly turned into an all out bacon feed riot, breaking windows and ripping down road signs. My car at the time was a junky Honda Civic. The doors were open and there was 83 cents missing from the ash tray. I acted mad for a few minutes so as not to seem suspicious, then left. I’d guessed they did it just to say they could break into a whole parking lot at once. They didn’t even take my broken tape deck. Later, that same car was sitting in front of my apartment with the trunk cocked open and a pile of tools in the back. I was working on something and had stepped inside. I walked out of my door to find some crack head “shopping” through the pile. His back was to me and he didn’t hear me, so I charged at him and full-on five-minute-majored him into the trunk lid from behind. He collapsed like a heap neatly into the truck. I then calmly called the police and told them I had just come out of my house to find someone passed out in the trunk of my car. It was worth the dented trunk lid 🙂
My first exposure to thievery was when I was 17 or so and I had my brand new high dollar radar detector stolen out of my truck while it was at the dealership for a recall. I wasn’t really pissed until the service manager said he wouldn’t cover it or attempt to find out who took it and as much as called me a liar. That did it. I had it out with not only the service manager but I stormed into the dealership owner’s office and had it out with him too. When I say stormed I mean stormed. Against the orders of the service manager, several salesmen and office people and with the threat of law enforcement being called I went from office to office until I found the owner. I barged right into his office and read him the riot act. He sent the service manager down to the local stereo shop to buy me a new radar detector.
When I lived in town we never had any problems with thievery for years and years and most folks still left their doors unlocked. Then we had new neighbors move in and within a week I had my stereo and CDs stolen out of my car. A few weeks later someone broke into my storage shed and stole a few thousand dollars worth of tools. I wasn’t the only victim either. People in a several block radius had all sorts of stuff come up missing just after the new neighbors moved in. A little too much of a coincidence.
Living out in the sticks now I have very few problems with theft. The farmers around here take a dim view of thievery and thieves are likely to end up with extra orifices if they get caught by the homeowner or farmer. Last time we had a wave of thefts word was discretely passed to the criminal community that a group of farmers had picked out a tree and had a noose ready. The thefts stopped. Those old boys don’t screw around.
One time I was visiting my parents in Brooklyn and I must have left the car unlocked (which I *NEVER* do), because someone had moved shit around looking for the radar detector. I had left the bracket attached to the sun visor, but I’d taken the detector inside. There was nothing else of value in the car, so fortunately they left everything else alone.
My buddy Doug was not so lucky. He used to keep a blanket on the back seat of his car so his dog would be comfortable instead of having to lie on the hot/cold vinyl seat. Apparently some thugs saw the blanket and decided there must be gold bars under it, After they broke in and found nothing, they slashed his tires as punishment for not having something there for them to steal.
On a business trip I had a rental car stolen from a hotel parking lot, with an Anvil case full of tools in the trunk. The cops found the car a day or two later. “Tools? What tools?”
Finally, my friends Frank and Kathy had their house broken into *while they and their two infant children were asleep*. The bad guys took:
– a basket of change
– a bottle of wine
– a broken camcorder
– one speaker of a matched pair (irreplaceable, manufacturer is out of business, fuck you very much)
Lee Harvey, been there. It’s really not so bad when they reach down your throat. What sucks is when they punch through your breastbone.
That rug really tied the room together.
Don’t know if this counts…Was walking to a campus bar (edge of a bad part of town) at night with a friend. Someone walked up behind us, grabbed her purse and started running with it. He was a young kid, but I chased that fucker for a couple of blocks before he got away from me (he clearly knew the neighborhood better than I did). I’m still pissed I didn’t catch him.
The Dude abides. I don’t know about you but I take comfort in that. It’s good knowin’ he’s out there. The Dude. Takin’ ‘er easy for all us sinners.
Nuthin’ much stolen from me. Someone broke into my nightclub and stole an empty cash register. They broke it open and left the battered carcass lying alongside the railroad tracks. Oh, I also had a bartender that could make $100 bills disappear faster than a magician…but that wasn’t burglary.
Only other real theft thing was in Toronto. Someone smashed the window my car in the Marriott parking garage in Toronto and got away with about 53 cents from the console. Biggest pain was the insurance company who made me go down to the police station to file a report before they would process the claim.
Ironically…and as a lesson to others, the freakin’ auto insurance wouldn’t cover the damage, and to get the window paid for, they made me put the claim through on my homeowner’s policy. Never was able to recoup the 53 cents, and there were little pellets of broken glass rattling around in the bottom of the door til I sold the van.
CAUTION – TLDNR
Gretchen,
You’re right: one generation. I turned fifty-ten last month. I find it surprising that, despite a 23 year age difference, we seem to share a few cultural perspectives, values and reference points.
I’m sure that there are many more we don’t share at all, but I do find your comments concise, erudite and funny, and it seems that we occasionally respond similarly to goofy stuff.
Being old enough to be your old man and, at 60, not suffering so much from the testosterone poisoning associated with younger men, I feel comfortable enjoying your comments out loud without your wondering about my motives. I just love good writing, good humor and off-kilter perspectives. And, of course, They Might Be Giants transcends generations.
I don’t really dress like Dorothy Parker, but love what she said about curiousity…
“The cure for boredom is curiousity. There is no cure for curiousity.”
At 0330 on a cold, breezy night without drizzle in the Great Pacific Northwest, the backyard raccoons and I wish you a pleasant goodnight.
jtb
We had some potted ferns swiped off the front porch. These ferns
where huge, they must have used a dolly to move them. Which would
been a funny thing to see. Southwest little rock late 80’s.