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I had to wait to write this, because I've been steaming mad for two days now.
Wednesday, late in the afternoon, two boys came into the store. Although I had often seen them "tapdancing" for change on the street I had always ignored them. As soon as I saw them, I recognized them, I knew there was going to be trouble; but it didn't do me any good.
The shorter one went right back through the store into the back room, when I followed him to say you can't be back here, I heard a noise as though someone were messing with my desk. I thought about the boss' cash box but I'm still trying to get the one guy out of the back. Finally he comes out and the other boy goes in the back and I go through the same thing with him.
I know this is bad, but for some reason I can't get my brain working. Usually I'm paranoid. Usually I have plans for bad scenarios. At this point I decide to protect the boss' money and go back to the register, and the hell with them if they mess around with anything else.
The smaller one is at the back of the store again, and I've already decided I don't know what he could be doing, that he's trying to get me away from my cash box. The larger one says, "Come on, there's nothing we want here," and then they start to leave. They stop to play with the little wooden toy on my desk, the larger one turning the little handle to make the acrobats spin on their little bar, and finally giving it a hard push before they both leave.
I think it's all over, and then a few seconds later, I hear the beep of the door and a little thump. I come back to the door, see the same boys going out again, and after a couple of seconds, find my wallet in front of the desk. I forgot about going to the bank, and the wallet in the back room, and the $170 in cash that is now missing.
I run out to see if I see where they've gone. I can't see them. I call the cops and give them a description. Two black males, age 13-16, one taller than the other. The taller wearing a black shirt and knitted cap. The smaller wearing a white t-shirt almost down to his knees. Natural, short hair, no braids or anything like that. Dark pants on both.
The security guard at the French Market catches up with them, but only the larger one is taken into custody. He doesn't have the money on him. I know the smaller one has it, and I know I'll never see that $170 again. But I'm pressing charges. He'll probably get out of it. I don't know why I bother.
I never do this, and I never like to, but if anyone would like to defray the cost of this little adventure, my paypal account is kat@scyllacat.net. *sigh*
Wednesday, late in the afternoon, two boys came into the store. Although I had often seen them "tapdancing" for change on the street I had always ignored them. As soon as I saw them, I recognized them, I knew there was going to be trouble; but it didn't do me any good.
The shorter one went right back through the store into the back room, when I followed him to say you can't be back here, I heard a noise as though someone were messing with my desk. I thought about the boss' cash box but I'm still trying to get the one guy out of the back. Finally he comes out and the other boy goes in the back and I go through the same thing with him.
I know this is bad, but for some reason I can't get my brain working. Usually I'm paranoid. Usually I have plans for bad scenarios. At this point I decide to protect the boss' money and go back to the register, and the hell with them if they mess around with anything else.
The smaller one is at the back of the store again, and I've already decided I don't know what he could be doing, that he's trying to get me away from my cash box. The larger one says, "Come on, there's nothing we want here," and then they start to leave. They stop to play with the little wooden toy on my desk, the larger one turning the little handle to make the acrobats spin on their little bar, and finally giving it a hard push before they both leave.
I think it's all over, and then a few seconds later, I hear the beep of the door and a little thump. I come back to the door, see the same boys going out again, and after a couple of seconds, find my wallet in front of the desk. I forgot about going to the bank, and the wallet in the back room, and the $170 in cash that is now missing.
I run out to see if I see where they've gone. I can't see them. I call the cops and give them a description. Two black males, age 13-16, one taller than the other. The taller wearing a black shirt and knitted cap. The smaller wearing a white t-shirt almost down to his knees. Natural, short hair, no braids or anything like that. Dark pants on both.
The security guard at the French Market catches up with them, but only the larger one is taken into custody. He doesn't have the money on him. I know the smaller one has it, and I know I'll never see that $170 again. But I'm pressing charges. He'll probably get out of it. I don't know why I bother.
I never do this, and I never like to, but if anyone would like to defray the cost of this little adventure, my paypal account is kat@scyllacat.net. *sigh*
