Just Another Reason to Pass on a "Birches at Foxon" Condominium Purchase

I awoke at 3:27 this morning to the sound of a blaring car alarm. The sound of a horn blasting loudly at half-second intervals can leave you in quite a state of confusion, when roused from a deep sleep. My first though was, it's too early to be morning. After looking at the clock, I realized I was correct. Seconds later, I recognized the sound that awoke me as a car alarm. Then, a panicked thought hit me: shit, my car has an alarm now. I sprang from the bed, stumbled quickly to my sliding glass door and peered out. Without my glasses, I could see only that a large dark truckish-looking vehicle was flashing it's headlights in time with the horn. Is that my car?

I ran to my bedroom door and pulled it open. Erik stood in his open doorway: "dude, that's you - let's go." We bolted down the stairs, as quickly as our not-yet-awake bodies would take us. I ran to the ceramic bread pan (which, for some reason I'll never know, was given to our team at work as a holiday gift), where I keep my keys, and grabbed my car key.

I joined Erik at the front door, peered out, hit the unlock button to stop the alarm, and then re-locked it with a final BEEP. I stepped outside and surveyed the entire parking lot, looking for possible intruders. I could see nothing. I still did not have my glasses on.

Stepping back into the house past Erik, I reasoned, "I guess there's nothing else I can do at this point; I mean, they're gone."

Erik, confused: "Nothing else to do ... but ... maybe ... close your car door?"

"My car door's open?!"

"Yes."

I ran upstairs to get my glasses, now realizing this wasn't an attempted break-in, but an actual break-in. Now I could clearly see that, yes, the car door was wide open. After investigating the car, I've come to the conclusion that the drug addict scumbag entered my car by unzipping the drivers-side rear window (Jeep Wrangler) and stepped into the trunk. He then stepped over the back seat, leaving mud on the rear row of seats, and then stepped onto the center console, leaving dirt there. At this point, I guess he rummaged around in my center console, finding nothing. My EZ-Pass and Purell were left sprawled on the driver's seat. He then opened my driver-side door, triggering the alarm, at which point he ran like hell - the coward that he was.

He left some other crap that he had apparently stolen from a previous victim earlier in the night: a panini maker and frigging suntan lotion. What kind of a poor bastard steals these things? They were sitting on the pavement, directly behind my car.

After the first time this happened, I quickly learned that calling the cops is a useless venture. They send their greenhorn out to take a report. He sees obvious pieces of evidence - evidence that David Caruso or Mac Taylor would drool over: fingerprints visible to the naked eye, shoe prints, hair, etc., and just shrugs his shoulders and says "there's nothing we can do." Thanks. And there's nothing I can do when you come begging me for donations. Go pull someone over for doing 56 in a 55. You seem to be great at that.

The fine association (heavy sarcasm) that is Empire Property Management has done a wonderful job of laundering my monthly payment of $195.34. That's $200 a month that evidently does not go to any sort of security, despite several reports of car theft, burglary and armed robbery. They can't even get the snow removed! I have to shovel myself out.

I've decided I need a higher-tech alarm system, although I'd be relatively embarrassed to spend $1,000 on an alarm system for a Jeep Wrangler, it seems this is my only option at this point. Oh, and I've decided to hone down my original plan of staying at the condo for five years. Now I'll only be staying for three. And I'm moving to a house, with a garage. And maybe a police department that cares. Although, that may be asking too much.