Just when I think my life might get boring, something wacky happens. At times, it seems these incidents couldn’t be more random, and yet I don’t really believe in coincidence or happenstance.
Have you ever had your mail stolen? It’s a rather freaky thing. I like that the US thinks it big enough to classify as a federal offense. I have no idea what Germany’s take on the subject is. I would find out but that whole language barrier still exists. And somehow I don’t think that, “Ich spreche kein Deutsch” (I don’t speak German – and I don’t spell it either for any smarties out there) is going to get me anywhere on this subject.
Almost ten years ago, I lived in an apartment complex that sorted it’s own mail. That’s a nice way of saying the post office was fed up with trying to figure out college students’ mail and thus refused to do so. Well, the particular person and this particular property that happened to be doing all the residents a favor was, in fact, doing herself a favor. A big, fat illegal favor.
I don’t know who busted her or how it all went down. I lived in Russia at the time, two years later. But when the truth was unraveled, my first passport was found in this chick’s web and used as evidence against her. Talk about identity theft paranoia!
But which is worse, I wonder… To not know that your mail is being pilfered, sifted, read or to be fully aware but totally flipping out because you have no idea what those dirty thieves have their hot little hands on?
Doc Sci came home the other day to find our mailbox door ripped open. Four of the twenty or so mailboxes were like this. Well, even a non-PhD like me can figure out that means that the thieves stole mail from only these four unfortunate souls.
For starters, I never liked this box. You can lift the flap and peep away, knowing instantly if you have goodies in there or not. And, though less obvious, this particular metal door sporting our name could be opened with any key.
Consider my blood pressure when I realized I have been waiting many weeks for a new debit card from my US bank. Sweating. Profusely.
Several hours later on the same day but now in the pitch black cover of night, a mysterious foreign voice phones us from the lobby of our building asking us to come down and get our mail. I’m thinking, what kind of sick game is this? Steal someone’s mail and then kidnap them so you can hold them hostage for a PIN number? Yes, I have quite the dramatic, worst case scenario imagination. Comes in handy at times; mostly, it’s just annoying.
Turns out, this was not your average kidnapper but a nice guy who found the pile of ripped up mail and tried to return it to the four losers who got robbed. And you know what these weirdos took?
I could not make this up if I tried.
So what’s weird in your week? My heart’s racing (again) from the stress of it all so let’s hear some more pulse-quickening stories!