• How to get burgled, JAFA style

    (For those not in the know, Jafa = Just Another Fxxcking Aucklander)

    Guys, lock your doors. Seriously. I don’t care where you live or how nice your neighbourhood is. Just trust me, okay?

    Lord, I haven’t felt this stupid or sheepish maybe ever. It really sucks when you take full responsibility for something so basic, so elementary, that in fact I have decided not to admit to what happened. Except to you lovely blog readers, obviously.

    So, um, there’s no need to beat me up for my foolishness, yeah? I’ve already flagellated and lamented.

    ANYWAY. Should you wish to ignore the above at your peril, here’s how to do it.

    Sleep late. Contemplate calling in sick for a second, but realising you’re more or less better and don’t have the luxury of sick days to waste.

    Rush out, trip over the step, shut the door, but decide there’s no time to fuss with key finding etc. Run for bus.

    Come home to open door and billowing curtain. Thankfully you haven’t been cleaned out. Just a couple of conspicuous gaps where the TV and laptop were.

    Laugh hysterically at the fact that your cosmetic bag was also inexplicably taken. Sorry punks, I don’t do jewellery, and all you’ll find is a purple plastic soap holder in there.

    Scoff at the crackheads who didn’t take this, this, this, this and this, while being very grateful for the oversight.

    Fume at the fact that your most recent financial info is gone. So much for October Type-A-tracking. Looks like that will be shunted over to November instead.

    Feel ashamed that thieves saw house in this state. The I’ve-been-bedridden-and-nobody’s-cleaned-in-a-week-state. Clothes and towels are on the floor. Rubbish and recycling piled up in the kitchen. God knows what all over the floors.

    Realise what a parlous grip on reality you actually have. Order pizza.

  • Update!

    So I didn’t blog about this (I don’t think) but I did mention on Twitter. Last weekend the little shit from down the road who was involved in a)throwing bottles at us a few other weeks back and b) burgling us over the summer, came into our house. Yes, literally, came into the house, into an empty bedroom (I was in mine and everyone else was in the third bedroom) nicked off with the Xbox and gapped it. One of the flatties heard him and chased him out to the street, but I guess little nogoods like him have plenty of experience running from crime scenes and consequently have extremely overdeveloped little legs.

    It was just absolutely unbelievable that he came INTO the house. While we were there. Incredibly ballsy, or stupid, I don’t know.

    ANYWAY. Flattie recognised him from school. We got out the yearbooks and IDed him and once we knew his full name, the cops were able to get a search warrant and go around there. They found the Xbox in his room, and apparently he’s now in the cells (and will be till Tuesday, bless Queen’s birthday weekend!)

    Cops said they couldn’t do anything about the laptop and cameras he took from us in the summer, but I just wanna see him go down.

    Police finally got something right, and did something useful, for a change!

    But seriously. It’s so frustrating for you to know that someone who lives around the corner has something of yours in their house, and you cannot legally do anything about it. We had all the details to the cops by Sunday (the day after it happened) and only yesterday (Friday) did they apparently arrest him for stealing and breaking and entering.

  • Weirdness

    So the older brothers of those little wannabe gangsters just came over and knocked on the door to apologise on their behalf.

    They’re having a right good natter with the flatmates, beer in hand, asking how much he wants for the windscreen, insisting if he wants to “fight” they’ll get the boys over to settle it “one on one”.

    I don’t suppose it’s wise to mention to them the fact their brother also probably robbed us, but whatever.

    Honestly.

  • No joke….this is my life

    And then came more.

    Last night I heard something breaking, like glass smashing outside. And a shout. I rushed outside, with BF and some of our friends who were over.

    Three little gangster lowlifes had just put a brick through our flatmate’s back windscreen. They took off down the street. BF yelled at them/after them. They came back. Started fronting up and acting all hard and tough and trying to pick a fight. They threw our rubbish bin at our cars. They threw probably five or six bottles at the house and cars. Talking absolute shit and saying “we know where you live” and they knew BF’s name (apparently they went to our school). All kinds of crap and trying to stir up trouble. As if the yelling and bottling wasn’t enough, they started shaking and kicking the neighbour’s fence (they luckily have abig wooden gate and nobody can get in at all).

    Throwing bottles is CHEAP. I do not believe in fighting. But if you’re going to fight, fight fair.

    Anyway, we stayed fairly calm and even though one of them hit one of my mates in the chin, nothing happened. We stayed on our property, called the cops, stayed put. They eventually retreated. The cops never came.

    Same thing happened maybe an hour later; they came back, started shouting and swearing etc again. They took off after the LL and his mates pulled into the driveway – apparently they started hassling them too and stepping to them. Called the cops. The cop car came forever later, simply drove down the street, then zoomed off like a shot when they saw nobody on the roads. It was pissing down, it was FREEZING, and we had given up on standing, waiting outside. BF tried to sprint out and flag the car down, to no avail.

    How is it that the police don’t give a shit about these things? And how is it that we have no means of recourse and no way of protecting ourselves? I am not going to face down people trying to throw bottles at me. There is no reason or rhyme with people like that. I asked, SEVERAL times, “WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?” You know, like, why are you doing this and what is your beef?

    I felt so utterly helpless then, I cannot describe how frustrating that was.

    And again maybe half an hour later. Called the cops. We just stayed inside, and I swear this time those hoodrats started actually coming on to our property. I was so worried they were going to do damage to the house, and put me out of pocket. The cops came an age later and actually came to the door. I jumped out of my skin thinking it was those boneheads actually knocking on our front door.

    And then I realised how badly I handled the whole situation. I should have been scrutinising their faces and noting down their attire. The cops wanted to know if we could identify them. I couldn’t have told you one single thing about them, let alone the colour of their hoodie! I was just so freaked out by the entire situation. BF is hyper observant thank God, because I am not, and I didn’t even THINK to try and observe.

    BTW, at least one of them was the same one involved with the burglary of our house back  in the summer. And probably all of them were to some extent, because that’s how these groups roll.

    And it’s not fucking good enough.

    Seriously, I don’t care HOW bad your life is or what a crap upbringing you had or how bored you are or how drunk you are.

    IT’S NOT ON.

    This morning I went and swept up all the glass that I could. There are so many minuscule little shards that I doubt I’ll ever be able to get them all. But they are probably enough to cause some serious pain – so no more barefooting it around outside. There’s also tons of little broken bits sort of below our immobile car, and in the hollow of the tyres and the spokes of the mags that I couldn’t get to. That’s gonna be a bitch to clean up.

    Oh yeah, and BF ended up in the emergency department till 4am. But that’s a post for tomorrow.

    It’s easy to be a bleeding heart liberal and go on about rehabilitation when you’re comfortably ensconced in your middle class existence in Mt Eden.

    Not so much when you’re holed up in your house afraid to go outside, expecting a rock through your window at any moment.

    I would have loved to have pulled a Denny Crane right then and pulled off a round of shots at those little shits.

    What are you supposed to do in that situation? What CAN you do? How is it that we can’t protect ourselves from (insert choice word here) like that? BF called our cop friend, who merely confirmed how powerless and uncaring police are in such matters.

    I kind of wish I’d just booted those f***wits in the nuts, although that would’ve just enraged them and set them off at our guys. Or possibly even retaliate on me, in which case GOOD because that might have got the cops out here, but then set our guys on them to protect my dignity etcetc. URGH.

    And no, I do not believe the right to bear arms would have solved this. Guns are too easily turned back on you. And if it’s easy for people like myself to get a gun, imagine how much easier it will be for guys like those.

    Four months left on this lease.

    That’s a long time.

  • Here‘s a sad story for you.

    Would you stop and help a girl who told you a strange man had been following her for miles?

    What would you do?

    The woman she approached had a car – she was filling it up at the Waterview BP. She could have offered to drop her home, and driven her safely to her doorstep.

    But she didn’t. She just told her to be careful. Easier said than done, right?

    Whatever happened to community spirit?

    I wonder though, what else could that poor girl have done? What if a random guy was stalking me as I walked home? I guess my first call would be to BF and hope to God he picked up. I might try to go into the BP station, explain things to the station attendant and just stay there until someone could pick me up, or something like that. I wouldn’t want to be trying to make it home on my own.

    It’s got me a bit freaked out, because Waterview is only a couple of suburbs over. I don’t do a lot of walking, but it’s still enough to make you worry.

  • Strange coincidence

    lasertx3
    Oddly enough, the same weekend we got robbed, my family went up to Whangarei and had their car stolen. In Whangarei. Of all places! A 20year old Ford Laser; hard a WRX or RX7. The police even reckoned they knew who probably did it (okay, bad grammar alert)

    The friends they stayed with were kind enough to drive them back to Auckland, luckily, and were even nice enough to send back $20 for me. They don’t even know me! The wife met me once. Husband wouldn’t know me from a stray dog. But I appreciated it very much. Unromantic as it is, and as much like my mother as it sounds, I really do think money is the best gift of all (well, except when it’s form your significant other). I’m sure I’ll think  differently when I’m well off and more established in life, but for now that’s the cold truth.

    Is it just an Asian thing? I must find out. Rellies always give small amounts of money on visits, it’s sort of the done thing. I’ve never really thought to ask anyone else. What’s also nice is she’s Asian and he’s Scottish, and the reason I think it’s nice is sure, I know tons of mixed race couples and often see random ones around (and occasionally their adorable offspring, whom I stare at) but I know of none who are married. It’s not like I need validation. I just think it’s nice. It sets a precedent for me, maybe? And hopefully if the whanau like those two maybe they won’t take it too hard when I marry a big white westie.

  • Waiting…

    to hear back from the cops.

    After Monday evening’s revelations, we called the burglary department and updated them. The officer was like “so what number is that house?” I never go left of our house (it’s where the street turns ghetto and unsafe. I prefer not to even look in that direction. Especially when those hoodlums are around). Kicked myself and popped outside to check, then called back. Don’t know what happened during that three minutes, but they didn’t pick up, and I left a message.

    BF kept calling them during the day; apparently our officer was out, but she had “got our message”.

    Nothing yesterday.

    Left another message this morning. Trail is probably cold by now.

    I plan to call the CAB and Community Law today and see exactly what we can expect, what the cops are obliged to do and what their powers are now. I mean, we KNOW those kids did it. They know WE know. And I don’t expect to see my stuff again but we have to live near them, and I refuse to send the message that they can rob the house across the street, flaunt it, and get away absolutely scot free. Surely the police have to follow up. Whether it’s just questioning, or searching the place, and finding nothing, whatever, they should be doing SOMETHING.

  • Part 2

    Just as I was feeling better; it’s just stuff we’ve lost after all, life will go on. So on Monday I realised that my cameras were also missing. My crappy digital (no big loss, I wanted a new one at some point anyway) and my film SLR (well, my photography days are probably over, and as much as I loved my Minolta film SLRs aren’t worth jack these days).

    Yesterday the little homies came out for the first time since Sat afternoon. The hoodlums were hanging around across the street as they do. Strutting around. Wearing my camera case slung across one of their shoulders. We watched them for awhile, squinting through the blinds. I have terrible eyes even with my contacts in, but it’s a very distinctive case. It’s a big bulky pouch with shoulder strap. Black and spewy-grey with the top folded over and a buckle. Inside it has two compartments, the larger on the left and the smaller on the right for my USB cable and batteries.

    Honestly, we couldn’t believe it. How freaking stupid! That’s not brazen, it’s just foolish. Even I would know better than to parade around stuff I’d just stolen in front of the house I stole from. BF and flatmate went out to speak to them. They squealed “What did we do!” the second they spotted them and ran into their house. Yeah…

    An innocent person wouldn’t run. And what exactly was it they “didn’t do”? Oh, and their mother came out to yell “Leave them alone, they didn’t do it”. Yeah…

    I think they gathered all their cronies together down on the corner later. And sent their dog over to bark at us on our driveway. Unfortunately it was after hours for dog control services by then.

    It was sort a stand off, we hung out at home, they didn’t come back out. We plotted fun ways to sort them out, like explosives on their roof (it’s low down and easily accessible from the walkway next to it), sniping them with our hunting rifle, or bow and arrow, etc.

    Rung cops back to inform them we’d seen them with our property. Not sure what next. Haven’t heard back.

    Wow, it’s like a gang war! I really could do without these dramas in my life.

  • Burgled!

    Our house got broken into on Saturday night.

    I no longer have a laptop. That’s all they took though, that and a set of keys that were on the couch just outside our room.

    I’m totally unimpressed. I’m no right winger but I do believe in hard work and earning your way. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, I work hard to get the things I have (what few there are…). So in my mind it’s really not on to steal from others. If you want something that bad, get out there and work for it yourself!

    Yet I was pretty calm. And I haven’t been too upset really, surprisingly…just kinda resigned. Brings me right back to my first ever flat where my phone was stolen the first night there. I just feel really violated by the whole thing. I mean, someone’s been in my room. Looked at my stuff. Taken something of mine. BEEN IN MY FREAKING BEDROOM WITHOUT ME KNOWING AND NOT BENG THERE!

    Phew. Anyway, have moved my guitar and amp out of the house. We also had BF’s lil bro’s PS3 but in a diff room. Thank god. I am so relieved that wasn’t taken, because imagine if it had…it was brand new and we could not afford to replace it.

    It’s rare that we’re all out at once. During the week, sure, but during the weekend normally at least one person is home most of the time. But all of us were out Saturday night. Got home at nearly 3, went into my room, noticed the conspicuous absence of my laptop on my desk.

    But aside from that, we don’t actually have that much of value!  Which I guess is good. I just can’t believe how dumb they were. They didn’t take our new DVD player, while the box was out on the floor. As was the PS3 box, but they obviously didn’t go and look for it. Our gain.

    Pretty gutted we’re not insured. I was all set to get contents insurance back in November – had got three different quotes and everything. Then BF more or less got laid off. That fell down the list of priorities like a rock. Gonna get onto that real soon though. Still, it was just the laptop, so would have had to pay my excess anyway. I plan to get a cheapie this time, probably $600 or so (not much more than an excess woulda been!) Also, doubt they would have paid out given that our windows don’t work properly. And that’s how they would have gotten in.

    We told the landlord we want those windows fixed up so they shut and lock. Tightass didn’t want to pay for new locks, “not his fault”. Well of course, it’s not ours either! But these guys got in and took my computer and flatmate’s keys because our windows don’t work, and that IS your responsibility. Whatever, we’ll pay for the new lock if he sorts the windows and gets the alarm going.

    Worst of all we pretty much know who it was. Let’s hark back to my entry about how we live in the ghetto. I understand life is not easy for some. That’s doesn’t give you the right to be a little shit. And their parents need to take some freaking responsibility. There are three little hoodrats (BF’s awesome word, I use gangster/hoodlum) who recently have taken to hanging around our street. Mainly outside the house diagonally opposite ours. One of them lives there and the others live down by the corner/around the corner. They loiter, drink, glower at people, and sometimes yell out things. Last Sunday I’m pretty sure they were saying something to us as we pulled in home but we ignored them. And as we all left on Saturday night they also called out something (something genius like “what you looking at?”) One of them goes around with a bandanna over his face. Yeah, I know. And we haven’t seen them loitering outside since Saturday night. Coincidence?

  • GRR

    I’m uber mad!

    Remember how I explained we live in the deep, dark ghetto of a certain central west suburb?

    Across from the state sanctioned projects?

    Last night we had poker and drinks. A friend’s car got burgled, some expensive gear gone.

    At least he had the sense to cover it with a blanket…but not to lock his door, he thinks.

    Sigh.

    Although really, what kind of person goes around testing car doors to see if they can get it? We’re all like, lock your doors, install an alarm, yadda yadda, but it sucks that we have to go to those measures. Who the hell goes around trying to see if they can get into a car, just for the hell of it?

    Secondly, I went for a run (walk) on Sunday. Just around the corner maybe 4 houses up I noticed a white car bumper sitting on the kerb. I clocked it and kept going.

    A couple days ago it showed up on OUR kerbside – OUR patch of grass outside our house. WHAT THE FUCK?

    I am extremeely unimpressed with the wanker who decided to plop it outside our property. Dispose of your garbage yourself, you piece of crap. We currently have a bumper sitting in our driveway, yes. It’s white. And it’s ours, as we haven’t thought of a way to dispose of it.

    But we will not be taking it upon ourselves to dispose of someone else’s trash for free.

    Whoever it was may have thought “oh yeah, one more bumper won’t make a difference to them” Well, think again!

    Luckily, it still has a random as numberplate on it (may record it actually, for future reference) and is for a totally different car.

    The informative Trademe message boards have advised me to call the cops or go to the post office and get all the person’s details for $2.25. I’m sure I’ll get laughed at by the cop shop but I shall try em first! I dunno. I’ve moved it across the street and a little further up, but i mean it can’t stay on the street forever.