The thieving bastards never sleep

Adirty thief crept by the other night. Some idiot left our 11-year-old Toyota unlocked and the miscreant was able to rifle the glove box and center console. My initial investigation revealed only one thing missing: a single iPhone charging cord, blue in color. 

Could have been worse. Could have left a Glock and a Samsonite full of cash out there. Fortunately, I possess neither. I did have a pretty nice pressure gauge, but it was ignored. Apparently, footbound bandits don’t concern themselves with proper tire inflation.

Casual theft was a bigger problem in the Jacksonville neighborhood we left to move back here. Little groups of teens would wander the streets at all hours, trying door handles and nicking Amazon packages off front porches. Also locked bikes, holiday decorations and house plants. Everyday someone would post a Ring video of some dudes or dudettes strolling away with their stuff. In Springfield, we all came to feel that if you left any door or gate unlocked for even five minutes, you kind of had it coming. 

I didn’t have any illusions that Missoula would be free of petty crime. Hell, I’d had a nice bike stolen right out of the Missoulian building while I was working there in the mid-90s.  But I may have vaguely imagined that this middling neighborhood on this quiet side street would not tempt walk-by thieves. In Jacksonville, we’d gotten very disciplined about locking every door every damned time. Over the winter months here, it began to seem that we could occasionally let it slide. 

A good lesson, cheaply learned. No more unlocked doors at Fort Knadler. I’ve ordered a security camera too. Not that they’re much good beyond visually confirming that you have indeed been robbed.  But it’s somehow comforting to see when and how it happened.