Have you been stolen from?
Have you been stolen from?
Has someone or something stolen from you? Do you know who/what it was? Did it affect you? Do you care?
Doesn't have to be serious.
Share your stories!
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One winter evening I got a notification about possible fraudulent charges on my credit card. I had not in fact gone to Redbox twice that day, so I told them to replace the card. I got home and really had to pee so I beelined it to the bathroom. It occurred to me that it was really cold inside for some reason, and when I got out of the bathroom I noticed the living room window was open. Then I looked around and noticed that on my way to the bathroom I had walked past a bunch of drawers and cabinets that were also open.
Luckily not much of consequence got stolen. Whoever it was probably didn't have a car because everything that was taken was small. We had a nice TV and my ex had a nice computer that were both still there. On my end, I was missing that credit card (I had accidentally left it on my desk after making an online purchase) and my wedding and engagement rings. I was in the middle of a divorce and wasn't going to keep them anyway, so hopefully someone else got some enjoyment out of them.
Yo, that would scare the living shit out of me and I would be looking like a real psycho with whatever weapon I could make and teetering my short ass down the joint praying I don't have to come at anyone. Cause I sure as fuck would not be winning that fight. I am glad they ran off with your bs and that you guys were okay. But hot damn. I would be locking everything under the sun from that point on. We went through it once, a friend and I. They went through their window. Later a lady at the smoke shop (because I used to smoke beedis like a real sophisticated "gentleman") gave me the low-low for taking chunks of wood and putting ten pounds of screws in there. Up until that point I basically just would wedge it. Tbh though, while we ended up sleeping together (not like...sexually just we were both Scooby Doo levels of freaked out and would share my bed cause they didn't feel safe in their joint anymore). I just didn't feel the need for more than locking up and a plank. I think they just moved it cause they wanted fresh air and they got lazy with it and that's how stuff goes bad. I think about it sometimes, because I think it was the guys who lived behind us and were sweeter than pie to us. But I also once (when smoking one of my beedis like the "boss bitch" I was) saw something in the shadows and legitimately shouted "CREEPER, NO CREEPING!" Thank baby jesus that my buddies were outside with me cause it actually was a real ass creeper slinking around like a mother fucking creeper. And I think if it wasn't those dudes, it most def was that mother fucker. But either way, nasty people can get fucked.