Most of the time people steal antennas just to be dicks. Like hitting mailboxes with a baseball bat. Sometimes they use them for weapons. You can do some damage hitting someone with an antenna. I understand they can also be used for crack pipes.
(rimshot)
My ex-boyfriend’s house was broken into. They knew it had to be someone they knew, because he and his roommate had two big dogs - and the only thing missing was his roommate’s weed, which he stored in his tackle box.
:smack:
No, they didn’t call the police.
I knew a guy who took a bath. Had something to do with a real estate deal.
I came back from a movie to find that someone had emptied their ashtray and dumped it into the bed of my pickup. I guess they’d taken the time to clean out their car, because there was some other stuff, including old bills. Which had their address.
So I boxed up the cig butts and paper and mailed it back, with a nasty note.
No way to know if they ever got it, but I hope so!
Another time my friend was moving from Phoenix to Flagstaff and his car broke down. Some nice kids gave him a ride to Flag, and then proceeded to go back and empty his car. And they would have gotten away with it, too, except they got a ticket in Flag, and the police very nicely provided my friend with their name and address. My friend got me and two of the largest guys he knew and we all paid them a visit. No violence went down-the implied threat was sufficient for them to return everything.
Sounds like someone got their detective’s credentials by watching Columbo. Pens are no more likely of a hiding spot than anything else.
My next door neighbour when I was tiny used to deal in stolen bathrooms. True story. My Dad pretended he was caught with one under his coat, fake rolex style. Not so true story.
Weird or dumb ones I’ve known about, my parents gift shop was robbed once, they took:
the mars bars;
the 99p pewter figurines;
a few t-shirts with the centre logo on;
and all the non-alcoholic punch.
Another weird one that happened there was actually a centre volunteer; it was heavily suspected that she was helping herself from the till (nothing weird there exactly, sad, but not weird). My Mum’s suspicions were further strengthened when a coat vanished from lost property that exactly matched the coat the volunteer was wearing when she left (expensive, bought the previous day, the owner phoned within hours and had arranged to come back in the morning to collect it, this wasn’t “It’s turned really cold, this coat’s been here for ages, no-one wants it”).
Then she stopped volunteering. Which saved drama, as nothing up 'til then had been exactly conclusive, and she really got on with some staff.
Then 6 months later, she showed up at the neighbouring petrol station, filled up her car, and told the owner “Oh no! I’m so sorry, I’ve just realised I left my wallet at home! I work for [my parents], could I possibly come tomorrow to pay?” Then never showed up with the money. The petrol station is the centre’s only real neighbour, and the owner has known my parents for over 20 years, and they obviously had her full name and address on file… Oh, and it’s a bleedin’ petrol station, with security cameras.
For those of us who speak American, can you explain what this means?
Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. He, and some mates, regularly stole bathroom fittings; baths, sinks, showers (from building sites or “fell off the back of the truck”) and would try and sell them. Yes, that is as dumb an idea as it sounds. Yes, he did get caught.
That would explain why he was often flush with cash.
Maybe he should have tried money laundering instead.
A person stole our cement mixer. WHY?
I almost did not start this thread, but it turned into a good one!
Annie, that thread says that your cement mixer stealing trio were charged, but it doesn’t say what happened to them. Did it go to trial?
We agreed to drop the charges once we got the cement mixer back, and a restraining order against them.
And did anyone ever find the cement mixer??
Years ago, before I had security, someone broke into my house, during the day, by breaking the lock. I presume they kicked it in.
This was back when VCR’s were worth stealing, and that’s all that went missing. The cop who took the report adivised me not to get another for a while, because sure enough, six days later, the same type of break in occured. This time the asshole didn’t find anything he wanted, so he got in my fridge and cooked himself breakfast. Yes, my bacon and eggs were stolen! And he sat on the couch to eat. Grease was all over, quite the messy cook. And the jerk wasn’t satisfired with eating off of my Corningware plates, he got in the back of my cabinet and ate off the one good china serving platter I owned.
Why? The police had concrete evidence.
The thieves should be doing hard time.
Back in the 80s, my dad found a dead cat under his car in the morning. It was right after Christmas & we had just gotten a new VCR, so he put the dead cat in the VCR box & taped the top so the kids wouldn’t see it. He meant to put it in the trash can, but was in a rush and left the box on the porch. By the time he got home, someone had stolen it.
It was in Jimmy Hoffa’s house.
So is Jimmy Hoffa.
One evening a young family friend showed up on my doorstep. He looked like he’d been beaten by a professional – and in fact, it turned out he had been.
This fellow had been out for a hard night of drinking the prior Friday night (this was Monday evening). He considered driving home, but then thought better of it due to his level of intoxication. He walked home instead.
Apparently his behavior on the walk was erratic. Just as he arrived at his driveway, a prowler car pulled up. The officers who had been observing him beckoned him over. The conversation turned sour rather quickly and the fellow verbally abused the officers. They charged him with public drunkenness right in his own driveway.
As they attempted to load him into the patrol car, he began to resist. This did not go well for him, either. His face somehow found the edge of the door in the effort.
Because it was a Friday night, he spent a long, uncomfortable weekend in the county jail before he could be arraigned on Monday morning. He was released on his own recognizance and had stopped by my house to see if I could give him some pointers on how to deal with the charges.
IANAL and would never offer him legal advice, but I worked for the court at the time. Next morning, I had a look at the police report. I frankly didn’t recognize the perpetrator the police had arrested as my acquaintance. The words, “You’ll be sorry! Judge Wapner is my uncle!” were repeatedly flung about. Allegedly.
I didn’t really have any pointers for him except to share that I had respect for the public defender who was representing him and to tell him to be less confrontational for the adjudication of his charges than he had been with the officers who arrested him.
With even a modicum of tact, I expect he could have avoided the situation altogether. Maybe even have gotten an 'atta boy for choosing to walk instead of drive in his intoxicated state. Being an asshole to cops never works out well.
And here’s a tip from the same time frame: never hide the rent money under the VCR…