The Great Filling Station Hold-Up

At one of the posh private clubs here in Atlanta (of which I am not a member but my friends are), we got talking to the maitre d' about the gorgeous Christmas decorations. It seems that in previous years, in addition to the stately, beautifully appointed tree, they had placed fancy, elegantly decorated boxes underneath to simulate presents - empty boxes, just for show. They weren't doing that this year because (get this) people stole them! People, presumably mostly the members of an upscale country club, were stealing empty boxes.

I'm not sure if it served them right to get home and find they'd stolen a box full of nothing, or to presume they knew it was empty and wanted it for the same purpose as the club: a decoration. Either way - how pathetic, stealing an empty, gift-wrapped box.

Still, there's no telling what people will steal if they have an opportunity. At the office we inhabited before this one, we had some doozies, let me tell you! That building had a 24-hour security desk at which you had to sign in and out if you weren't a tenant; even though there was always someone at the desk (or making rounds after hours) you had to punch in a code to open the outer doors if you were coming in before 8 or after 6. Each suite had its own locks as well.

One morning, Sheila (administration) and I arrived on opposite ends of the block at about the same time, so we walked into the building, rode up the elevators and entered our office at the same time. It so happened that the evening before, we'd also left together, after the cleaning crew had been by, so we knew we were last to leave and that we'd locked the doors because we'd done a little thing over who could dig out her keys the fastest. But when we got to our office doors, we found them unlocked!

Inside, everything was a little bit askew - not trashed, just not how we'd left it: stuff that was normally lined up was at an angle, a vase that normally sat on this file cabinet was on the adjacent one instead.

Together we patrolled the office. The computers and printers were there, if not precisely where they usually were. Boom boxes, radios, the conference room DVD player, two little portable televisions, snack change kept in top drawers: all present and accounted for. Spare clothing such as her sweater, my windbreaker and The Boss's spare leather jacket: kind of mussed about, but still there. We checked the break room - same deal, like someone had shuffled all the flavoured tea packets around, but hadn't taken any - or sugar or cups or stirrers.

Yet it was obvious that someone had been in the office, because there didn't seem to be anything from phone sets to staplers to "in" boxes that was precisely where it normally was.

Then we checked the mail/supply room. The door to the supply cabinet was standing open! The only things missing, out of all of this? A plastic tub of Chicklets gum and two AA batteries (out of a box of a dozen). What. The. Hell.

Sheila called the building manager to report the breach, thinking they should know about the intruder although we realized how silly it sounded, what with all the computers, electronics, easily salable items and even some money remaining, but horrors! a tub of Chicklets and two batteries stolen! The building manager thought we were nuts and said it must have been taken by an employee. No, there were only 6 of us at that particular office, and it was our stuff anyway! We ordered those tubs of gum for several desks and put spares in the supply cabinet, for whomever to replace when necessary; the batteries were for our use in clocks, remote controls, personal electronics, etc. Everyone was pretty good about telling Sheila that we'd used something so she'd know to order a replacement, and the office was small enough that she and I had a fairly good idea of what was on hand at any given time anyway. But most importantly, we had no reason to steal them because they were ours to start with! I mean, sheesh - nobody ever chastised me for exceeding the Chicklet budget for 3rd quarter or anything.

Still, even though we had no reason to thieve what was ours to begin with, we knew how ridiculous it sounded. Someone breached the keypad, snuck past the security guard, up to the 10th floor, picked or jimmied the door lock and - made off with a tub of Chicklets and two AA batteries! The biggest heist of the century! Um - sure. Riiiight. Except, apparently, someone did.

That's actually not the weirdest theft/intrusion we ever experienced in that building. I'll write some follow-up tales but I want to know: what's the most bizarre thing you've ever had stolen, or heard about being stolen?

Jimmy Buffett, on this very subject:

We got fifteen dollars and a can of S.T.P.
A big ol' jar of cashew nuts and a Japanese TV
Feelin' we had pulled the biggest heist of our career
We're wanted men, we'll strike again,
But first let's have a beer!

We were sittin' in the Krystal
About as drunk as we could be
In walks the deputy sheriff
And he's holdin' our TV!
Roughed us then he cuffed us
And he took us off to jail
No pictures on a poster, no reward and no bail!

And now I wish I was somewhere other than here
Down in some honky tonk, sippin' on a beer
Yes I wish I was somewhere other than here
'Cause that great fillin' station holdup
Cost me two good years.