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The Case of the Vanishing Package

Oct 25, 2016
Photographers: Monica Gonderman
“The package should be there.”
“Oh, the other one’s coming, too?”
“Yeah, well actually...there should be three total.”
With furrowed eyebrows I asked, "What do you mean? There’s a third one? What else did you order?"
I'm convinced we have this same discussion every single week. I feel like our front door is a second home for UPS and FedEx. Thanks a lot, Amazon. Thanks a lot, free shipping. The temptation is too great, the convenience too enticing, the deals too good. Half of the time he notifies me when something is on its way. The other half of the time, the doorbell rings, informing me something has been delivered to the doorstep. It's kind of a fun game, until I remember who shares the responsibility for paying for it—me! That's a different story.
This system of online binge buying had gone remarkably well for several years, minus some shipping delays, mangled boxes, and other logistical hiccups that came with such an operation. But yesterday—yesterday something different happened. Something disgraceful and disgusting happened. Our package was stolen from under our front door mat. The mat was unnaturally folded in half, and I had the feeling the local cat hadn’t used it as a play toy. I instantly knew, deep down, that a package had been snagged. Sure, I looked in the nearby bushes and under our ginormous poinsettias, but I had heard of such theft occurring in the area. Heck, people had even posted home security videos of incidences transpiring. But it had finally happened to us. Some scumbag had the nerve to snag a $20 box of specialty Jeep nuts and bolts. You idiot, what are you going to do with a 14mm nut? Is this really something you wanted? I hope your reprehensible hands clapped with joy at such a prize. I hope you stuck them on a shelf of shame along with all the other parts your guilty fingers have ripped off my truck over the years. I may not ever catch you, but you will be caught someday. In the end, there will be justice, and you will regret how you lived your life. And that's the biggest tragedy of all—a dirty, wasted life of wrongdoing.
Photo 2/2   |   Stolen Package From Front Door Mat
I'm not enraged about the loss of a box of nuts and bolts. Of course not. That's not the point of this. In fact, the company graciously reshipped another box, which we luckily retrieved before Mr. Scumbag’s return. The point is that it's a violation of trust in fellow humanity. It's wrong. It’s immoral. I don't understand why someone would take what's not theirs. What's wrong with people? What goes through their selfish heads? How do they sleep at night? How are they not eaten up by the guilt? How do they live with themselves?
Have you ever been a victim of theft? What's your story? Anyone ever catch a thief in the act or afterward? Anyone ever been the Mr. Scumbag that I'm talking about? Let's hear your story!
Oh, the things I'd have in store for you, Mr. Scumbag, were I willing to stoop to your level! Instead, I'll use your infuriating acts to solidify my commitment to being everything you are not.
-Monica
mgonderman@enthusiastnetwork.com
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