An open letter to the person(s) who stole my porch light.
So I thought nothing of it until I noticed over the weekend that one of the two chandeliers on my porch that I had been using as a porch light had gone missing. Putting two and two together, I now know what happened, and am trying to put together an accurate mental picture of you, the person who took them.
I like my stuff, and I like keeping it whenever possible. That said, I understand some thefts. If you are, persay, addicted to something, and you steal something from me because you need to buy that something and stealing is the only way to make that happen, then I get that. I still wish you wouldn't do it, but I get it. Or if you need to feed yourself or your family or your dog and and you need to steal something to do it, then I get that, too. Those are crimes of necessity, however that necessity came about. But that's not the case here. Not even close.
As I'm sure you noticed when you got home/sobered up/looked more closely, the chandelier you stole was not a nice one. I got them at a thrift store for a dollar, did a shitty job of painting them white (it's kind of peeling), and was forced to rewire it myself. If memory serves, the one you took was even missing a bulb. So they have no real value. Nobody in their right mind would give you any money for them, and there are many more valuable things laying out in garbage cans or on dark porches all over my street. You stole my porch light to use it. You stole it to decorate.
If you were casually walking down my street at night (as I doubt you came in from out of town or state to pull this 'heist'), then chances are, you live around here. Chances are equally good that you could very well afford to purchase your own chandelier instead of stealing mine. Or, maybe you're just trying it out for a bit, and I'll one day find it reinstalled on my porch after you sadly discover that it just doesn't look right in the bathroom, or really pull together the entryway like you'd hoped it might.
This is fair warning you to you, then, that I'm keeping my eyes open. I made the damned thing, and I know what it looks like. If I see it on your own porch, I'm taking it back. If i see it in your dining room through a window, you and I are going to have an unpleasant conversation (unlike car thieves or bank robbers, I'm not terribly intimidated by 'chandelier thieves'). Or maybe I'll just take something of yours and use it at my place. Tit for tat.
"Theft With Intent To Decorate" is something so unnecesarry, so achingly annoying (and, let's face it, so Victorian Village) that I wish I could run into you someday, just so you could see the face I'd make at you. It's the look on your grandmother's face as you trip her on purpose. It's the look on your parents face when you tell them you were dropping out of college to focus on your "real spiritual development as a person". It's like a whole host of angels coming down and singing "What The Fuck?" all at once. I'm making the face right now, actually.
So Bravo!, thief of the night. You have my shitty chandelier. As you bask in it's glow, I hope you feel good about the kind of person you turned out to be.. And if I might suggest it, perhaps remember that it was rewired by me, a less than skilled electrician. So from now on I'll be sitting out nights on my porch, with my one remaining chandelier, hoping that it's partner is out there somewhere, burning your god-damned house down.
- Location: Victorian Village
- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests