Incompetence!
So, my Dad forwarded me an e-mail about the horrors of keeping a GPS in your car - i.e., making yourself a target for criminals who can then use said GPS to find your home and steal even more stuff. I think such tales severely over-estimate the intelligence of criminals.
Case in point: I got to my car this morning to find my driver's side door smashed. I had a car charger plugged into my cigarette lighter, but nothing plugged into the charger. The moron who broke in ripped the charger out of the lighter (but left it behind), couldn't figure out how to open my center console and so only found a tire gauge and some AAA batteries in the top layer, didn't even bother looking in the glove compartment as far as I could tell (the GPS wasn't in there, either. Just the mount. It would take someone many, many valuable minutes to find where I hid that thing. It was still where I put it.), and - in hopes of getting something for all his hard work - stole my 15-year-old backpack where I keep my basketball shoes (size 3 1/2) and football gloves (children's small). There was also an X-Files long-sleeve shirt in there, but I have two of those anyway. I'm sure he'll have plenty of use for those things. If he's eight. :P Moron.
Oh, but the fun does not stop there, friends! No, no. I went to the front desk of my apartment and told them what happened. The guy at the desk (who's wearing a badge labeled "Security") just kind of shrugged and blinked at me like "what do you want me to do?" So I called 911, then asked the guy at the desk if there was a vacuum cleaner I could use to clean out my car or if he knew a number I could call to get it fixed. Again, shrug and blink. Frustrated, I went back upstairs to take care of police and insurance reports. When the police officer asked me if there was security at my apartment, I laughed and cried. My insurance put me on a call back list, so I went back downstairs to ask AGAIN for a vacuum cleaner, because surely maintenance has something, right?
The guy at the front desk was not happy to see me. He looked about ready to yell at me, then thought better of it and instead said something about everybody has their job and he's just security. That set me off. "Yes, you're security, and I'm telling you that my car has been broken into but you act like you don't give s#!$." Yes, I said the word. Out loud. With a raised voice. I pay $50 a month to park in a locked garage to prevent just this sort of thing from happening, and I pay a hefty rent that goes toward paying this guy to sit at the front desk. I've worked those sorts of jobs. I know it's not exciting and I don't envy dealing with unhappy customers. But I had been calm up to that point and, it seems to me, reasonable in my expectations of help of SOME kind. Your job, dude, is to help the people who live here. Never mind that the word "Security" on your shirt implies that you should have some interest when a resident experiences a breach of security. You shouldn't hear someone say "my car got broken into" and act like they just said it's cold outside.
Anyway, he disappeared into the back and came out with the head of maintenance, who was considerably more helpful. He even gave me a cushion to sit on so that I could drive my car the short distance required to get within reach of their shop vac. My car is now cleaner than it has been in months. I now have a plastic bag for a window. Hopefully, I can get that taken care of this afternoon and still have time to buy new basketball shoes before practice tonight.
But if you see anyone wearing a small pair of blue and white basketball shoes and carrying an old black backpack, let me know.
Case in point: I got to my car this morning to find my driver's side door smashed. I had a car charger plugged into my cigarette lighter, but nothing plugged into the charger. The moron who broke in ripped the charger out of the lighter (but left it behind), couldn't figure out how to open my center console and so only found a tire gauge and some AAA batteries in the top layer, didn't even bother looking in the glove compartment as far as I could tell (the GPS wasn't in there, either. Just the mount. It would take someone many, many valuable minutes to find where I hid that thing. It was still where I put it.), and - in hopes of getting something for all his hard work - stole my 15-year-old backpack where I keep my basketball shoes (size 3 1/2) and football gloves (children's small). There was also an X-Files long-sleeve shirt in there, but I have two of those anyway. I'm sure he'll have plenty of use for those things. If he's eight. :P Moron.
Oh, but the fun does not stop there, friends! No, no. I went to the front desk of my apartment and told them what happened. The guy at the desk (who's wearing a badge labeled "Security") just kind of shrugged and blinked at me like "what do you want me to do?" So I called 911, then asked the guy at the desk if there was a vacuum cleaner I could use to clean out my car or if he knew a number I could call to get it fixed. Again, shrug and blink. Frustrated, I went back upstairs to take care of police and insurance reports. When the police officer asked me if there was security at my apartment, I laughed and cried. My insurance put me on a call back list, so I went back downstairs to ask AGAIN for a vacuum cleaner, because surely maintenance has something, right?
The guy at the front desk was not happy to see me. He looked about ready to yell at me, then thought better of it and instead said something about everybody has their job and he's just security. That set me off. "Yes, you're security, and I'm telling you that my car has been broken into but you act like you don't give s#!$." Yes, I said the word. Out loud. With a raised voice. I pay $50 a month to park in a locked garage to prevent just this sort of thing from happening, and I pay a hefty rent that goes toward paying this guy to sit at the front desk. I've worked those sorts of jobs. I know it's not exciting and I don't envy dealing with unhappy customers. But I had been calm up to that point and, it seems to me, reasonable in my expectations of help of SOME kind. Your job, dude, is to help the people who live here. Never mind that the word "Security" on your shirt implies that you should have some interest when a resident experiences a breach of security. You shouldn't hear someone say "my car got broken into" and act like they just said it's cold outside.
Anyway, he disappeared into the back and came out with the head of maintenance, who was considerably more helpful. He even gave me a cushion to sit on so that I could drive my car the short distance required to get within reach of their shop vac. My car is now cleaner than it has been in months. I now have a plastic bag for a window. Hopefully, I can get that taken care of this afternoon and still have time to buy new basketball shoes before practice tonight.
But if you see anyone wearing a small pair of blue and white basketball shoes and carrying an old black backpack, let me know.
Labels: apartment, basketball, car, crime, incompetence, rant, security, theft
posted by SpakKadi at 12:08 PM
3 comments
