Life Sucks ’til You Join the Tact Squad
Key enters lock. Turns. Click.
Door receives a push. Doesn’t open.
Not what I expected to happen this morning. A quick mental checklist confirmed I have nothing near my door that could’ve fallen to block it.
Pushed a little harder. Success!
Why’s my fan on? And my lights on for that matter? Oh, my back door’s wide open. My computer’s missing. Same with the Playstation 2, and Xbox 360. Hey look!, they went through my bedroom too!
The dispatcher told me not to touch anything so I didn’t. I waited outside for an hour and a half for the deputy to arrive.
The deputy said it was the second time he’s seen burglars block the door with something such as my couch. Apparently they’re too good for a simple snatch-and-grab, instead opting for the slow search.
Is it wrong to get satisfaction knowing the burglars spent a lot of time searching my apartment for valuables I don’t have? Walking away with only what I listed above? “Do you hide your valuables,” the deputy asks.
After the electronics, adding my digital frame to the losses, they had already taken everything of value. No one wants books, or my vast collection of hit-less CDs.
Which is a shame ‘cuz my copy of Jim Hogshire’s You Are Going to Prison fetches a pretty penny on amazon last time I checked. Haslam’s has a copy of The Big Book of Freaks locked in one of their display cases. Not even signed! I have it resting with all my other Paradox Press books.
It was funny, almost everyone felt bad that I had to miss a day of work due to this. Seriously, that was the least of my worries. Any day away from work is to be celebrated, even if it involves being on the receiving end of a felony. I’m so frazzled and stressed right now I couldn’t even try to work. (Though I might stop by to see if I can get my Xbox’s serial number off of POS.
This had to happen right after cleaning out my apartment; throwing all those old receipts out that I knew I’d never need.
The worst part is it never seems to end. I have to slide my dresser back in place ‘cuz they moved it to unplug cords. I didn’t go to college to do manual labor fuckers! I have to call my bank because my computer’s gone. A computer housing tax return data, which housed birthdates, and a whole assortment of numbers: social security, checking, saving, and money market. All businesses I now have to call to warn.
Do you realize how many calls that’s going to take? At least two! That’s last month’s phone call total right there, in one afternoon. And the month isn’t even over yet!
Maybe I’ll multitask when I’m searching the neighborhood pawn shops…
[POSTSCRIPT: If this happens to you, and I hope it doesn’t, please DON’T text your significant other immediately after calling the police at 4:30 in the morning with, “I’ve just been robbed.” She’ll think you were mugged outside her apartment and freak out. So take that extra minute and be a bit more descriptive. ‘Cuz that time you productively use during your 90 minute wait outside in the mosquito flooded parking lot will be saved later when you’re trying to eat breakfast.]