Thievery Strikes Again!

I didn't share the really exciting news from this week: I was robbed!

And no, I don't mean that in the "sports metaphor, they-won-because-of-a-bad-call" kind of way.

I work in a suite of five offices, outside of which is a balcony running around an open courtyard. Because the Liberal Arts building seems fairly secure and well traveled, those of us with offices often step out without closing the door. Making copies, getting a drink, checking the mail—it's easy to do.

You can already see what's coming, can't you? Clever monkeys.

On Tuesday I stepped out, walked about ten feet outside the suite and another twenty feet to the bathroom. I was gone for about four minutes (I know because I was grading on the fly and I keep a pretty close eye on my time use at such times). I walked back to my office—

No more laptop.

I just stared for a while. It seemed incomprehensible to me that it could be gone in so short a time. I kept looking around, as if somehow I had snagged the computer on my clothes and had pulled it off the desk without realizing it. But it wasn't me—someone had snagged the thing and run off.

It had to be somewhat planned: you can't actually see my office from the courtyard and have to walk into the suite to see within. There was a fellow sitting outside when I went out who was gone when I returned, but I did not observe him closely—I have yet to develop the sufficient level of suspicion to survey everyone I pass on the off chance one of them will commit a crime against me. So I wasn't too helpful to the campus police when they showed up some twenty minutes later.

The good news (of a sort) is that it was the school's computer, not my sweet new machine (on which I type this even now). The bad news is that, of course, that's where all my assignments and grades were stored. It's password protected, so until and unless it finds its way into the hands of a l33t hacker, I should be safe, and I don't keep much personal information on a school computer. I've since changed my internet passwords, and I suppose a desperate but literarily pretentious thief could take the draft of my novel I had on there and publish it before I do, but other than that the danger factor is low. It's just an annoyance, and a wake-up call; a lot more professors will be locking their doors from now on.

One of my coworkers shook his head in disbelief at the story, and said, "Man—I'd be swearing and cursing up and down. You seem so calm." I just shrugged. What would swearing do? After coming down from the shock, I prayed for the guy who took it; what else could I do? He was either desperately messed up, or just desperate: either way, he needs help. I doubt I'll ever see the computer again, but hopefully something good can come of this all.

Back up your files, people. Really.