Version
COMMENTARY
ET CETERA
DISPATCHES
LISTS
FEATURES
CORRECTIONS
MAILBAG
REVIEWS NEUNER
OLEAR
RICHARDS
STERNE
MASTHEAD
CONTACT
SUBMIT
SUBSCRIBE ARCHIVES
REALLY PETTY LARCENY
When the den of thieves is your living room
My neighbors were burgled this past week. There's an unused, unlocked closet space in the hall that will apparently someday be an elevator, and it borders the two apartments next to mine. On the far side from us, the wall of the closet is apparently made of light material -- drywall and insulation. The thieves came during the day, kicked in a hole about three feet wide, and entered. No one really noticed the noise, as there have been workers here for weeks remodeling an apartment on the second floor.
The thieves made off with cash that was lying around, as well as a couple of coin jars. That's all they took. My roommate speculated that they were accomplished thieves, as they took nothing that would draw notice when exiting the premises, and they took nothing that would require fencing. Just money. He was pretty confident in his assessment, making me wonder if it has not in fact been my imagination that my stack of laundry quarters seems to dwindle regularly.
Our apartment does not lock well. We don't have a top lock, and the bolt on the knob doesn't work. But we figured being a fourth-floor walk-up was discouraging enough for even us, with keys. I cannot count the nights that my roommates and I have ended up sleeping in a nest of sorts in the foyer -- it's a lot of stairs to climb. As these lawbreakers may suddenly realize that there is more to steal than money, I figured they might come back.
Despite the fact that FedEx already lost most of my stuff that had any value (but that's a rant for another time), if we were robbed, I stand to lose several thousand dollars worth of stuff, as well as any peace of mind not already crushed by my recent realization that I will never be the famous tap dancer I envisioned myself all my life. I've never even had lessons. And let's face it, some things are priceless
I realized that I must burglar-proof my home. To do it, I have to think like a criminal. Like the criminals think, or how I would think were I the criminal. Here is how I do it, room by room:
BEDROOM:Hiding things under my mattress seemed too obvious. Sock drawers are the first places checked. The obvious things first -- my laptop computer. My printer. My discman and cds. What else, I wondered, as I looked around. My checkbook. Some checks lying around. I decided to hide my checks in my books, but then I realized that they might steal the books. Or burn them, if they are disenchanted with the modern education system. Wait -- my Centrum! It's one of those big bottles that cost almost $20.00! It might not have much resale value, but any criminal with a concern for his health would take it! My tape measure -- it's a pretty nice one. Perfect for a thief to measure the size of goods vis a vis the size of the escape hole. My duct tape? Everybody always wants duct tape. My fleece blanket -- ooooh, so warm. If they get my calendar, I will remember no one on their birthdays. (But at last I'll have an excuse). What if they think my rug is real and not just an Oriental knock-off from Bed, Bath, and Beyond? Should I leave behind the receipt, casually stapled to the corner of it? A note explaining that none of my stuff is really worth the effort? A pre-packed bag of stuff that they can take quickly, preventing them from rooting around? Directions where to find the valuables my roommates might have? What if the burglar is my size? He has all day to try on my shirts. I guess I'll have to wear my favorite clothes to work everyday and leave the rest as dirty laundry. Dirty laundry! I hid my discman wrapped up in a shirt in the middle of my hamper. I end up hiding my computer under a pile of magazines. My printer stays where it is, on the floor of my room, but I cleverly cloak it with a pair of dirty sweatpants and my jeans. I close my closet door. I leave my tape measure out in order to defy them. I hide my CDs in my under the mattress and my Centrum in the sock drawer. BATHROOM:
No worries here. I could leave a bag of fake jewelry or a note saying, "Try again" in the tank on the back of the toilet. My towel is ratty, and there's not much else in here. Then I remember the old urban legend in which crooks make off with all of the stuff except for a toothbrush and a camera. Sure, my thieves would have to bring their own camera to leave behind (or steal from my neighbors), but I should not take any chances. Maybe I should take my toothbrush to work? Or leave a decoy? I end up hiding my toothbrush under some papers. LIVING ROOM:
If they can carry the television, they can have it. Hopefully, they will want to take the silly croquet set my roommate brought in. Maybe I should leave behind some box cutters so they can destroy our couches. I hate our couches. I do nothing to secure this room. KITCHEN:
The fridge? I could hide things in there. No, the villain will probably see if there's any food worth taking in there to begin with, and I read the Roald Dahl story about the diamond hidden in the ice tray. Come to think of it, I should finish off the beer and the sundried tomatoes -- who knows what this guy's palate will be? I should hide the nice Guinness glass. Maybe I could stow some stuff in the broiler? Hmm, too risky. I could take it all to work. Disperse it among my neighbors. In the end, I have a beer. Maybe I should take a sick day. Lie in wait for the perpetrators. Hide in the closet with a knife. Spring out and say: BRADY: Aha! Caught you! Oh. Caught all FOUR of you. Okay, let's see here. Here's my Metrocard and my watch for you, and a nice cashmere sweater for you. This is a new hardcover book, and here's the receipt for you, if you want to go get cash back. This is a key to my friend's place, and let me write down the address. Yes, that's my duct tape. Okay…okay. Ouch. Ouch. Would it be easier if I folded my arms? Ow! Ouch. Okay, please watch the arm hair. Say, that knife is sharp. Wow, really sharp. Could you please leave the phone behind? Please? Ouch. Ouch again. Well, that's actually venous blood. You can tell because it's so dark in color and it just oozes. Ouch ouch ow ouch. Yes, that's arterial. See how it's bright red and comes out in spurts? That means it is oxygenated and leaving the heart. Yup. Yes. Okay. You know, it might be easier if you used the duffel bag under the bed to carry that stuff -- there's a shoulder strap in there somewhere. Lift with your legs. Okay, take care. Oh, would you mind terribly leaving the door open? Oh, I see. Hm. I am hoping that you will see it in your hearts not to gag m-rmphllggrgbb. Mmf smm. Gfff…. On second thought, maybe I should just call the cops from work. Maybe every twenty minutes. And I can alternate calling the fire department. I can give different emergencies each time. I could even call the exterminator. Hell, I'd rather be tear-gassed than sprayed with that awful anti-roach juice. Bleh. The next day, one of my roommates and I looked into getting a heavy-duty deadbolt installed by the locksmith on our block. But he's asking $250.00! There is no way. Is he crazy? Talk about robbery!
By Brady Richards
022701