Let me rephrase that. I feelviolated. And a little stupid, if you want to know the truth. I’m assuming you do since thisisa non-fiction blog. So here’s the scoop:
My vehicle was broken into a couple nights ago. Technically, it was entered without my permission because it was unlocked. That’s the stupid part. Both my cars were unlocked in my driveway.
Scene of the crime
I live in a safe neighborhood, or thought I did, so I got complacent concerning diligence toward thwarting thieves who count on my complacency. But if you’ve ever had someone steal your property, you know how creepy it feels. That’s the violated part.
When I was 7-years-old, I stole a piece of Bazooka bubble gum while at our neighborhood store, Littleman’s Market. The gum was sitting near the checkout counter, just calling my name. So I put one in my pocket. On the walk home with my dad, I retrieved the gum and popped it in my mouth. I was smacking away, like 7-year-olds do, when my dad asked me where I got it. “At the store,” I calmly answered. “Did you pay for it?” I could tell by his voice he wasn’t happy with me and I shook my head in reply. Continue reading →