via
http://ift.tt/2pS1mln:bedbugsbiting replied to your photo “WHO GOT THEIR WALLET STOLEN IN TROY LIKE A DUMBASS and what dumbass…”
UGH. Well, at least it was a stupid thief. Stupid ones are easier to stop, though it would be better if they just didn’t even try.
oh my god SO STUPID! The entirety of that section of Third Street is solid with cameras because #1 the county clerk’s office is on 3rd st, #2 there is a HUGE bus depot on the next block where basically every bus line in Troy comes together so there are always a million people around, and #3 there are so many fights at the bar I was standing next to when I dropped it (or so I surmise; I lost it somewhere within less than a 100-foot walk, 20 feet of which was a busy street, and missed it within two minutes; I had several layers on, I think I put it between layers accidentally, and it fell out when I turned my body to throw my gum into the garbage can next to the bar. I noticed ALMOST INSTANTLY– but he’d been standing right there, and I’m sure he saw it fall; there’s a stoop, there’s always dudes sitting on it, it’s right next to the garbage can where I threw out my piece of gum, and my wallet’s bright blue).
And then he took it to a LIQUOR STORE where he goes DAILY, and LOOKED AT the camera by the door, and then stood in full view of the camera behind the register, talking to the cashier WHO KNOWS HIM, standing next to the owner who ALSO KNOWS HIM, and then went down to the convenience store down the street (retracing his steps! walking past me in the process!) and got the card declined because by then I’d noticed it was missing and called the credit card company! They texted me and I said “IBB Smoke Shop?” and my sister pointed at it (we’d just done a lap of the block looking in all the garbage cans, figuring a smart person would yank the cash out and throw the wallet into the trash and make their getaway and I’d be happy to call this all even and just get on with my life but nooooo) and said “that’s the store on the corner” which we were within eyeshot of.
HE WAS STANDING THERE AS I WALKED IN {cut for drama! and clickbait! and length! tl;dr reader, i did not punch him}
but the clerk was too chickenshit to tell me that. I noticed him, though, because I nearly bumped into him, and he was with another dude and they were muttering about “maybe try the one across the street”, and I was like all squint-eyed like is that him and then I was like surely not but no. No, it was him.
But here’s the best part, when his (my!) card declined, he told the convenience store clerk “oh it’s because i just used it at the liquor store, i bet i went over the limit” HOW DUMB ARE YOU BRO YOU JUST TOLD ME WHERE TO GO! So, it being like, a minute later, the chickenshit clerk is not too chickenshit to relay this to us, and is like, “they have a really good camera system! I don’t know how to use ours here, he’s on the camera for sure but i don’t know how to rewind it, but i know the one at the liquor store, the owner’s always there, he knows how to use it!”
So we went down the block (seriously. one block.) and I said, having gotten the statement from the credit card company in the meantime, “hey did a guy just come in here and use a credit card with a chick’s name on it to spend $60.45?” and the clerk was like “bang right here yes I thought it was weird, Miguel comes in every day and never uses a credit card, I thought it was odd that he had one, but I didn’t want to be a dick” and the owner was like “i thought it was funny too, let’s rewind the video,” and sure enough, I was like THAT’S THE GUY THAT WAS COMING OUT OF THE CONVENIENCE STORE and they were like oh yeah, that’s Miguel. The clerk reprinted the receipt and handed it to me and I was like yep, that’s the last four of my credit card.
[by the way. there are no less than five men behind the counter of the liquor store, and three more standing in the various aisles. at first i thought it must be between shifts or some kind of social grouping, but as the evening wore on i realized, no, this is a liquor store in a sort of bad neighborhood, those kids are working security. extra bonus points: they’re all pretty clearly related to the owner. extra extra bonus points: they’re all sort of beefy except one skinny nerd of like 20 who is very obviously the only one there who actually knows how to use the cash register. extra extra bonus points: my drama is The Highlight Of The Evening and many community members turn up to witness it. They all agree, Miguel’s a piece of shit who’s too old to be pulling this kind of stunt.]
My sister calls the police, and the owner says, “gimme a minute,” and goes outside, and comes back in and is like, “he’s standing down the alley there selling the bottle of Hennessy he just bought here” and my sister’s like IMMA GO FIGHT HIM and I’m like middle-little, you cannot go fight him, this is a matter for the authorities. She’s like BUT I WANNA and I’m like, child, you are Not Allowed. [Bonus points: Middle-Little is a gun nerd and has her concealed carry permit and you bet your ass, anytime she’s wearing pants, she’s carrying, and tonight I happen to know she put pants on in honor of my arrival (she’s in the midst of finals at grad school so there have not been a lot of pants lately). jesus christ my child, do not get into a fight with the kind of man who visits the liquor store daily. you cannot trust a man of this sort to be sensible. i cannot trust you to be sensible, apparently. I already knew all my sisters are ride or die but I’d rather they didn’t, though. YOU ARE THIRTY-FIVE FIND SOME CHILL.]
So the cops turn up, too late to see Miguel apparently, but there are three or four of them, all white men of between the ages of 21 and 24, and every one of them recognizes Miguel from the camera. None of them is sure of his last name. They’re all familiar with him. “He’s, ah. Around a lot,” one of them says delicately.
One of them takes my report. I have time to observe his special smartphone pocket in his bulletproof vest. Later in the evening I have occasion to observe that cops all have different smartphones but they all use the same pocket of their vest to hold it. He uses his smartphone and radio near-constantly and for obviously-different purposes.
I file the report, the guy says I can have a copy later if i want. I am unclear of what i’d do with such a thing but I suppose it’s, you know, good to have. (Maybe I can carry it in lieu of my driver’s license so that I can drive my car home and if the cops stop me, not be in so much trouble for not being able to produce my license.)
I drive out to the farm. (15 minutes.) Unwind, have a drink, eat a little bit. (of course i lost my wallet on the way TO dinner. ugh.) Get into pajamas. Get into bed. My phone rings. Unknown. I almost don’t answer it, but then I’m like, thinking of that smartphone pocket. Surely the police wouldn’t use an unknown number? But. But. I pick up.
It’s the police. They got a positive ID on the guy. They didn’t arrest him yet though because, get this, now I have to file a statement swearing I didn’t authorize anyone to use my card, and also asking them to arrest this guy specifically for doing so. Like– that’s what it was, I couldn’t give a statement without knowing the guy’s name, apparently.
So I put some pants on and wear my pajama top back down to Troy and go into the police station (oh my god, i’ve been in police stations before and this is the direst one I’ve ever seen, it is terrifying white walls and cracked marble floor and blind hallways with locked doors) and the guy tells me the name (and date of birth! 1989, he says, grimly, “too old for this kind of stunt”, like there’s an age limit on being the kind of man who sits on stoops making noises at women who walk by and then tries to buy things with their credit cards) of the suspect, and writes a statement for me, and takes his smartphone out of his special smartphone pocket to text people in the interim. [It did seem work-related, but it was kind of funny.]
Meanwhile his radio is talking about a man threatening a woman with a gun, someone else getting beat up, a bunch of shit like that, and i’m like, my life is so easy, but also, my fucking passport card was in that wallet. (side note: everyone in Buffalo has the passport card. When you get a regular US passport you can get an additional one that’s just one piece of plastic like a driver’s license and goes in your wallet, and it’s just good for Mexico and Canada, and everyone gets those because almost everyone just uses it for Canada anyway. Here in Troy? Nobody has ever heard of that. You mean an enhanced license? the cop asked, brow furrowed. [this cop was older than me. i mentioned how young everyone else was and he was like tell me about it.] No, I said, real actual US government passport, it’s got RFID stuff in it and all. Wow, he said. Yeah ok. Sounds expensive. Yeah, I said mournfully.)
So. Yeah, the guy said, we know who it is and where he lives, and they were gonna go see if they could pick him up just now. If they don’t get him, I mean, we know where he lives, and with this statement now we can put out a warrant.
I just want my wallet back, I say.
I don’t know how you get your license replaced without money, but I don’t know how to get money without ID.
I should mention, this is the credit card I lost all on my own last time I was traveling, and received the replacement for and activated on Monday, so. I deserve negative points for Competent Adulting.
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