(updated below)

My apartment got robbed last Thursday about 90 minutes after I left for work. I hadn't been in to the office yet that week (hey, it's a good life), and the thieves wanted to make sure I was really gone before entering.

Alas, we knew ye well.  

The three of them jumped the alley gate into the backyard, then pushed a garbage can over to the first-floor windows facing onto the yard. They were lucky enough to find a window unlocked and soon all three were inside.

They'd been looking at the big TV in the front room since it was delivered, so they headed straight to the second floor and towards the front. A couple of them grabbed the surprisingly light TV while the third took stock. His eyes bugged out at the bookcase full of DVDs, and he started looking around for something to put them in. He grabbed bags from both bedrooms and dumped their contents on the floor, filling them with DVDs and Playstation 2 games. And the Playstation 2.

His buddies came back from leaving the television downstairs. They went into the bedrooms, dumping out drawers and taking the two digital cameras they found, as well as a watch, school ring and a half-full "I heart Las Vegas" piggy bank. Binoculars and ice skates were briefly considered before being left on the bed.

Downstairs, the landlord's 80-year-old mother heard the crash of drawers hitting the floor. She thought it was probably the boys who lived upstairs, but curled up in her bed. It didn't sound right.

One of the thieves grabbed a battered Powerbook off the living room table, making sure to get the power cord, and tossed it in a duffle bag alongside a bottle of Bacardi. On their way out the trio paused by the bikes but decided against it — no time. Among other things, they also left behind an old iMac, three Playstation 2 games, a 120GB external hard drive, several boxes of comic books and a baseball signed by Mark Buehrle.

Rather than going back over the fence, they jimmied the side door on the garage and opened it to the alley, where their car waited. As long as they were out there, they grabbed a computer monitor and a toy truck (destined for Toys for Tots, believe it or not).

You too.  

At least that's what my roommate and I have pieced together since he came home Thursday night around 7, Subway in hand, to find the place trashed. He'd had the 42" high-definition plasma TV less than a month. No renters insurance, of course.

The cops came, and made cop jokes, and didn't bother giving us any false hopes about getting our stuff back. They suggested to my roommate that we'd been robbed because he's Asian and further suggested we move out of Bridgeport. The fingerprint guy came later, which was pretty cool, but didn't find anything worthwhile. He did tell us that our neighbor, a semi-paranoid limo driver, had been robbed only two days earlier in a similar manner.

It took me most of Friday to get the place back to normal. I'm not happy about the camera, but thank God I got a new computer last month and transferred all my irreplaceable files over. Here are the DVDs they left behind: the first season of Buffy, Office Space, Twin Peaks (the entire series), the first season of Lost, Heathers, Gladiator, and two seasons of Sex and the City. We're not sure whether this was a statement about our taste in movies.

It's a weird feeling. Someone took my laptop and dumped my stuff all over the floor. They watched our television through the window and waited for me to leave so they could steal it. It makes me mad, of course. Nothing worse than impotent rage.

But I think I'm more sad. Just sad this happened. I'm a very trusting person. I don't lock my car doors if I'll only be gone a few minutes. I leave the laundromat while my clothes are in the dryer. When I lived in Urbana after college, I used to leave my back door open while I was at work.

We didn't have any security at the back of the house, and I never gave it a second thought. Neither did my landlord, who has owned the place for years without problem.

He installed a heavy-duty security door Saturday, and we also put up blinds to shield the view from the street. I don't think I'll be any less trusting. But I've learned that being trusting doesn't excuse you from taking reasonable precautions. And getting some fucking renters insurance.

This morning as I got out of my car and went into the store, I stopped after a few steps and went back to lock my door. Because while I'm still trusting, I know now that you can get robbed, it does happen. I can't pretend it doesn't. So I lock my door. It's not a big deal. Won't slow me down at all getting back in.

But, yeah. It makes me sad.


UPDATE

Here are some pictures my roommate took of the carnage. He used his phone because, ha ha, no more cameras.

My room, his room and the forlorn DVD shelves, respectively: