Spotted two BoBs yesterday morning, along about 5:30. BoB: that’s Burglar on Bike. 😀
We learned that bit of jargon from the Block Watch cops.
Two of them — weaselly little gringos with that “up to no good” look on their faces, one of them wearing a red backpack about the right size to hold a few tools — were cruising back and forth through the more upscale part of the ‘hood just to the south of my area, not even bothering to hide the fact that they were peering intently at each house they passed. One guy stood up on his bike’s pedals so he could look over the wall into a back yard.
Charming.
There’s a long, curving cul-de-sac in that neighborhood where I like to take the dogs. A stroll up and back that thing and then around through the “new” houses at the other end of the main street makes a doggy-walk of exactly one mile. Trouble is, at the very far end of that cul-de-sac lives a gent who lets his two big, aggressive dogs run around loose. Sometimes. Sometimes not.
The weasels pass me and the corgis, then turn up this street. I follow them, figuring if the dogs are out I’ll know it, because the boys will come shooting out of there like rockets.
They see me following them and look a little perturbed. They probably figure I’ve got CrimeStop on my cell phone. I don’t, of course, because I don’t have a cell. Nor would I call CrimeStop anyway, for reasons we’ll address in a moment.
They circle back into the cul-de-sac and then, as I round the bend, cruise back out. One of them asks me where Feeder Street NS is. I think this obvious ruse is hilarious, but pretend to take them seriously. Then I ask them if they’ve seen the neighbor’s damn dogs, and they assure me there are no dogs down there. I thank them and mention that the dogs are chasers. They go on their way.
So, this is an amusing moment.
The pooches and I proceed on our stroll, and before long we come across our friend Lady Chattley and her nondescript, amiable dog. Naturally, we take up with her, as we always do. In the course of yakking, I mention to Lady Chattley that I’d seen my two new acquaintances casing the neighborhood.
She asks why I didn’t call CrimeStop on my cell. I fail to mention that I can’t afford a cell phone, for godsake. I say I don’t have one with me, and even if I did, I wouldn’t think of calling CrimeStop again.
Gasp! says she. Why not?
Well, the reason (say I) is that the last time I saw some sh!thead prowling the alley, obviously looking for a likely mark, the CrimeStop officer gave me the third degree. She asked repeatedly what I thought was so strange about the guy and why they should bother to send an officer around to check on it. I was made to feel like I was some crazy old lady who had nothing better to do than call the cops on every vagrant who stumbles past.
So: that is why I do not call CrimeStop anymore.
She says she calls them all the time and never gets that kind of response. She calls CrimeStop so often that the dispatcher now recognizes her voice and greets her by name. I privately reflect, And there’s why they think old women who call CrimeStop are cranks with nothing better to do…
There are a lot of good reasons to ask the police to check on creepy-looking strangers in this neighborhood: every one of those reasons is a creepy-looking stranger. So I imagine the cops feel pretty inundated with those kinds of calls, to the point where they’ve no doubt become a nuisance.
But if that’s the case, then the Block Watch guys need to stop telling neighbors to call Crime Stop whenever they have even the slightest question. Obviously, that’s not desirable.
And you know what? That is why I’m glad I have a pistol and why I am not about to relinquish it. That and episodes like the Great Garage Invasion. Truth to tell, folks, we’re pretty much on our own out here.
Bob off Bike: Depositphotos, © Eddiephotograph
I agree, reporting suspicious people is not always worth doing, especially if they’re just on bikes. Now going into people’s houses… I might call 911.
Also, have you heard of Google’s Project Fi? You can get phone service for $20 a month. They offer payment plans on their phones if you can’t do the $199 up front for the device. For $8.49/month on top of the $20 for the service, you can pay for the phone. My dad has Project Fi and recommends it.
Whoa!! That’s an interesting lead! I’ll definitely check that out. Thanks!
P.S. Actually, in Block Watch meetings the police have specifically asked us to call Crime Stop if we see someone on a bike who appeared to be casing houses. Apparently that is a BIG problem here in lovely uptown Phoenix.
Wow! I’m glad the Bobs played it cool with you, at least. Burglars on bikes, I’ll have to remember that.
As to your lack of a cell, I thought you got a basic flip phone with Tracfone minutes last year. Or did I misunderstand?
Yeah, I did. But a) it lives in my purse, and b) it’s REALLY hard for me to use because of its tiny little buttons than I can barely see, much less punch accurately.
My particular eccentricity is that I don’t want an electronic leash. And I don’t want to be “connected.” If I could live completely off the grid, I surely would. That, presumably, is because I’m crazy.
At any rate, because I’m crazy, I don’t carry the almost unusable cheap phone around with me. {sigh}
A few weeks ago, I was in a secluded children’s park with my daughter. The park had a fence around it. There was a man walking nearby and he kept glancing over at me. He made two passes past the park and I pulled out my cell phone to start talking to my husband. He then walked towards the gate of the park and stood there, leaving me no way out but to walk right past him. I got my daughter and high-tailed it out of there, talking to my husband on the phone the entire time. I felt like the cell phone gave me some security. I was so nervous about it, I called the police. They were sarcastic and wouldn’t check it out.
The police probably get a lot of false calls, but I’ve learned to trust my gut. I didn’t appreciate the attitude they gave me. They could have at least been polite.
Two words: German shepherd.
When I was younger and had a small child of an age to play in a park, I was lucky enough to have inherited the neighbors’ GerShep when they divorced.
I was buxom and apparently sexy-looking in those days, and men used to do exactly this kind of thing every now and again. More frequently, they would harass me as they were passing by in cars or as I was walking around in public.
The instant we got that dog, all of that sh!t stopped.
I don’t know what guys thing a dog is going to do as they’re flying by at 35 or 40 mph, but all the catcalls stopped, all the attempts to stop and lure me into the vehicle stopped, all the following stopped, all the pestering stopped.
As that dog aged, we got a pup, figuring it could take her place. One day the kidlet, the two dogs, and I were walking in the park. By this time the pup was ten months or a year old, as tall as a grown shepherd dog but not yet really an adult. Two itinerants were wandering around the park; one of them didn’t quite have all his marbles.
I noticed them and began to move away, but the dumb one started to follow us. He came striding over and said “Can I pet your dog?” Meaning the pup.
I said, “No. She bites.”
This puppy had never flattened an ear, lifted a hackle, or bared a tooth in her life.
He ignored me and reached out to grab her.
She went RIGHT after him — and I’ll tell you, that was a scary thing to see even if you weren’t on the receiving end. Fortunately, I had her on a sturdy lead and was able to keep her from removing the poor dolt’s hand.
He backed off and they went away.
German.
Shepherd.
Get one that’s already obedience trained.
An unaccompanied woman is fair game. A small child is not “company,” but apparently a large enough dog is.