Monday, November 21, 2005

The moral is...Don't live in the ghetto if you ever want the police to help you.

I came home on Friday night from Topeka. I was getting sick and I needed lots of sleep because I had to work the next morning. I pulled in at 8:20 and James was there waiting to help me carry some stuff upstairs. As we were locking up the car James says, "Wait...," Looking around confused. I thought he was being silly.

He said, "Where's Neal's van?"

Seeing that the van was gone I said, "Harrison probably has it."

"Harrison is out of town.(Silence)Before we jump to conclusions, I'll call Neal and see if he let his kids borrow it."

Nope. Neal didn't let his kids take it. As James was talking ont he phone, I saw the blinds in the window of the office blowing in the wind. The screen had been removed and the window had been opened.

When we went inside the office, not much had been taken out of it's place except the keys to Neal's van and the file containing $1300.

We sat waiting for the police to arrive. After an hour of waiting James called dispach again. They said that there weren't any officers available. No one had even picked up the call yet. Our status was "pending." Another hour went by.

It's now 10:30 and I haven't eaten dinner yet. We decided to go upstairs and watch from our apartment. About 1/2 an hour later an officer arrived. He had just arrived on shift and seemed very new to the force.

I couldn't believe how long it took. I feel even safer now living there!

1 comment:

Julie said...
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