When I got to work last Friday, Susan called me from her cell phone and asked if I was the one who had gone through her van and ransacked it. I wasn’t. Apparently, someone went through the (unfortunately unlocked) van Thursday night, rifling through all its contents and throwing papers everywhere. All our junk mail from the post office box had been opened and sorted through. “While visions of identity theft danced in their heads …” As Susan was talking, my heart sunk as I remembered I’d left an expensive digital camera out in the van. Fortunately for us, it was still there. The thieves had placed the camera inside Mason’s school backpack, but in their haste they forgot and left the items behind.
Susan also said the side gate was open, the gate that leads back to the arcade. With the kids buckled in the car, she was unwilling to leave them and go see if anything had been taken (or worse, if anyone was still back there). I leave the door to the arcade unlocked more often than I should. I’ve never worried about someone stealing a 300 pound arcade game, although the minute you think the building may have been broken into you begin to think about what else is out there, like the microwave, mini-fridge, etc. I jogged back out to my truck at work and zoomed home as quickly as I could. While I was driving I remembered that I had probably left the side garage door unlocked as well. It was unlocked because that’s where I have been stashing Christmas presents. All a thief would have to do it try the door; the slightest crack would have revealed a pile of brand new presents in the box, ripe for the taking. Fortunately for us, everything was still intact. The arcade and garage door were both unlocked, but neither had been opened. I quickly locked them and kicked myself for the close call.
Susan mentioned the incident to her sister who also lives in our neighborhood, and she said the same thing happened to her Thursday night. For some reason, that took a lot of the worry off of me. I hate the idea of having my house targeted for theft, but knowing that we were just a random victim along with a bunch of other random victims in the neighborhood makes it a little better. Unfortunately for Susan’s sister, she had the title to her car in the glove compartment. It’s gone — the title, not the car. Yet.
I mentioned this story to my sister over the weekend (who lives in a neighborhood near mine) and she said the same thing happened to both of their cars a month or two ago. Sounds like someone is making the rounds. What pisses me off more than anything is I was chatting on the phone late Thursday night when I should have been out walking instead. Had I been walking, I might have seen something.