Please Don’t Steal My Stuff

I’ve been violated.

Let me rephrase that. I feel violated. And a little stupid, if you want to know the truth. I’m assuming you do since this is a 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

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.don't steal

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Honesty is Still the Best Policy

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. Bazooka gum with comicOn 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