As I’ve mentioned before I got robbed recently. A lot of stuff was taken from me (my poor old Iron Gym among them). If this happens to you you look for someone to blame. Chances are you’re not going to find the people who actually did it to you. And even if I were to, I’m not the kind of person who thinks it’s a good idea to fight criminals. But luckily I think I’ve found a scapegoat.
When I told people one of the questions I got the most was “didn’t anyone in your building see something?” The answer is yes. My window is about ten feet from my neighbor Manny’s window. Manny is an old man who does nothing except wait for the mail to come and stare out his window for hours on end. While the part of me who doesn’t like old men knowing what I look like naked hates this, one would think it would be good in case your place ever gets broken into. Turns out not so much. It looks like Manny decided to pass the time that cold February night by watching me get robbed blind while doing absolutely nothing. Perhaps that’s a little unfair because he did do something. He called another neighbor, Asha. She’s about 10 years older than Manny (98 I think) and the only person in the building more annoying to share an elevator with than Manny. Together they did nothing.
|Manny's lair of ineptitude|
I didn’t expect him to leap in through our window with a nunchucks and kick some ass. He could have called the cops though or at the very least banged on the side of the building with a broom, which is what he does whenever he sees that squirrel. He didn’t though, he just watched, called Asha, and tried to sweet talk her into sweet “boy, this neighborhood has really gone to shit” sex (speculation on my part). What he did was come over the next day let us know he saw us get robbed and brought a old package of frozen chicken. Which would have been appropriate if as he watched us get robbed he noticed that all that was taken was an old pack of chicken.
|You may have gotten my computer and sense of safety, but you'll never take my chicken|
It pissed me off most, because Manny is old. And like a lot of old people can sometimes have a bit of trouble with everything manufactured after 1956. So even though he watched people walk out with my TV he expects me to come over to his house nine times a week and help him turn his TV on. Etiquette suggests he should at least turn his TV to the window to I can watch it. He can’t hear for shit so I already have to listen to it.
But it did give me an idea for revenge, and a means of keeping my apartment safe in the future. As we start to replace stuff we’re going to have boxes. Boxes that are going to look pretty enticing to ne’r do wells who live in my building (5B, looking at you). As we get new stuff I leave the empty boxes in front of Manny’s door. I’ll print out a couple bogus address labels to place on the stuff we throw out front, let the whole neighborhood know that Manny is sittin’ pretty these days. Try to let people know that he has jewelry hidden in small safes that look exactly like frozen chicken patties in his freezer. Also, I haven’t figured this part out yet, but I need a way to imply that Manny keeps large stockpiles of cash in a vault. A vault that is so secure the only way to open it is to rip up all the pictures of his grandchildren.
Then when he has nothing and all has been taken from him, I’ll come over with a Banquet meal for one, present it to him, and I’ll laugh a maniacal laugh. Then and only then will my revenge be complete. Or I might just wait until he dies. I haven’t decided yet.