Anyway, here's the deal. About two weeks ago, my house got broken into. I came home from work at about 7:15 or so, and a bunch of shit was gone.
The fuckers came in through my back bedroom window, and took off with a few very high-dollar items, including a brand new 32" HDTV, a nice shiny new Sig-Sauer pistol (with laser / tac light combo and about 5 or 6 magazines of .45 ACP Hydra-Shok). Attached to the television was a Western Digital TV HD converter box that they didn't take, although they did make off with the remote control (so the box is now completely useless), and a 500 GB Western Digital MyPassport drive that was attached to it. They took the drive and the HDMI cable, left the box. Sort of retarded, really.
So the cops show up, and they don't do shit. There's fingerprints visible on the frame of the window, a couple doorknobs, the Western Digital box thingy, and a stereo that they started to take then didn't bother with. They politely declined to do anything with these, but they did take a half-bag of Doritos that the burglar(s) left underneath the window. They claimed that they were going to send it to the California DOJ crime labs for DNA and fingerprint checks, but seriously folks. The state of Cali-fucking-fornia is so broke that they aren't even sending tax refund checks. Do you seriously expect me to believe that they're going to do DNA testing for a burglary in a shithole town in the armpit of Californa? Really?
Yeah, that's what I thought, too.
So I asked them if it was worth talking to my neighbors, or if they were going to do it. They said that I could if I wanted to, but they weren't going to talk to anyone unless they saw something. I barely managed to hold back from asking them how in the name of hell they thought they were going to find out if someone knew something or not, if you don't fucking ask them? I managed - barely.
So anyway, on my next weekday off I talked to my neighbors. (Yeah - weekday. It's a great schedule!) There are a bunch of retired people in my neighborhood, and I got to talk to most of them. None of them had seen anything, but promised to let me know if they remembered anything.
A couple of days later, one of them came by. He mentioned that he and his mom (he's 44, lives with mom, and is a serious head case - I'll tell you about him some other time) had seen my landlord at my house. That day. That afternoon, in fact.
My landlord was laid off a couple months ago. And has been trying to find a job.
He knows my work schedule.
He knew about my pistol. In fact, in order for me to buy it, I had to have him sign a paper stating that yes I do in fact live at the address that I claim to live at. (Thanks, California DOJ!)
I called him the night of the break-in to let him know. He was politely concerned, asked if there was anything that he could do. Didn't mention anything about having fucking been at my house that day.
But do you think I can get the cop who took the report to call me back to tell him about this, after a week of calling him?
Fucking lazy bastard. I hope you choke on the Doritos that I know you ate yourself, fucker.
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