WHAT A MESS. What is it about you modern burglars that insists on such lack of tidiness, such disrespect for the common courtesy of wiping one’s feet? Not to mention a callous disregard for a law of physics, the one that states that every action has a reaction. Drawers, to name one example, close as well as open. No need to drag them out onto the floor, scattering the contents under foot, when you simply could have pulled them out part way—reviewed the contents, made your selections—and then closed. I understand the need for haste. Burglars, as a rule, are on a tight schedule. But the window of opportunity was, in our case, between 9 a.m. and 5 p.m., give or take.
As you probably know, the iconic symbol of your occupation is an unshaven man with a sock cap and a crowbar, a jittery skulker no mother would be proud of. He enters a home in the dead of night while the residents sleep, their faces relaxed and undisturbed by the beam of a flashlight briefly flickering over them, then illuminating the dresser where most people keep their valuables. In our case, as you discovered, there were none, only old Trader Joe’s receipts and a couple tear-stained movie ticket stubs that I can’t yet toss. (Note to Disney: You can stop now. You’ll never make anything as good as Moana and ... darn it ... I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry again!)
GIVEN YOUR occupation’s nocturnal custom, we were surprised to return home and discover you had robbed us in broad daylight. Apparently, your new business model is to wait until your victims leave for work and then, at a convenient time, start your own work day. One envies this, of course, since you can sleep in most mornings, setting the alarm for 9-ish, and listen to NPR as you linger over a second cup of coffee. Then you can take some “me time” before heading off to work.
At our house, however, your efforts did not require a good night’s sleep, since you were relatively unhindered getting through the first level of our home’s security. You just pushed a hand—no doubt malevolently gloved—through the screen door of the porch, and then unlatched the eye hook that I had personally installed wearing, as I recall, a tool belt that conveyed a sense of manly worth and a strong confidence in my work. You were not impressed.
Our side window—security level two—offered similar ease of entry because the Andersen window company, using state-of-the-art engineering available in 1987, made its locks out of ... plastic. With all due respect and, admittedly, the benefit of hindsight, this was idiotic. The locked windows can easily be opened by pulling down on the top one with the physical force of a 9-year-old suffering from the flu. The “lock” just pops off, making a little plasticky noise on the floor that is unlikely to alert the neighbors or disturb the cat whose value as a deterrent was quickly disproved. He hid in the basement.
On the other hand—and I give the Andersen people full credit for this—broken window latches need no costly repair. I merely popped the decorative lock back into place and the window was fully functional again and ready to facilitate your next break-in.
You should know that although I haven’t changed those window locks, I have put in large wooden dowels that keep the lower window from lifting. Although, come to think of it, they won’t keep the upper window from being lowered from the outside, and I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Nor would the new sign outside offer much in the way of real security, since I just borrowed it from a neighbor and don’t actually have an alarm system, but I don’t know why I’m telling you that, either!
REGARDLESS, I doubt you’ll be back since the risk of jail time probably wasn’t worth the women’s bicycle and digital camera that, as far as we can tell, was all you took. And you will be apprehended. The police officers who responded looked at the evidence and immediately ascertained that you were male, thus quickly reducing the possible suspects to only one gender. It was also apparent that social media was being enlisted to hasten your capture since one of the officers appeared to be using Facebook during much of his visit. The other officer was on his phone a lot, too, but that seemed to be personal.
In the meantime, I’ll keep my eyes open for a male on a women’s bike, probably looking well-rested.
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