Time for a little street justice
“NIce leather jacket! Where’d you get it?”
“Oh, I picked it up from Wings pub when some sucker had his back turned. Picked up a nice laptop bag, too, but the jerk didn’t even have a laptop in it. If I see that cheap bastard again, I’m gonna spit on him.”
BAM! SMACK! BONK! SNIKT! KABLOOEY!
Thus ends my revenge fantasy, with me kicking the thief’s butt, with the assistance of the 1960s-era Batman and Robin.
My stuff got stolen tonight when my back was turned. Property crime isn’t anything new in this city and by most standards, my own case is fairly mild.
But I’m still upset. I’m the victim of a crime – and not for the first time in this city. I got attacked by thugs a couple of years back while heading home at night from UBC. Fortunately I was able to defend myself well enough to escape with my brains still safely tucked inside my cranium.
Crime is part of life in the big city. I know that, rationally. But I’m angry – not so much about losing a reliable bag or a nice jacket that was a gift from my wife, but mostly because I know there’s pretty much zero chance of the perpetrators ever getting caught. And even if they were busted, they’d just get sent through our revolving-door justice system and be back on the street in less than an hour.
NOTE TO THE THIEF OF MY STUFF: I recently got a cut on my hand that became infected, for which I have to take antibiotics. I hope you get the flesh-eating disease from my jacket sleeve. Cheers.