Writing about this “people not changing” stuff made me think of this guy I knew when I was a teenager. He was a cat burglar. Not sure if they still call them that, but he was an honest to God, safe-cracking, high end thief and I happened to know him.

I actually came very close to going to jail (or at least I though this at the time) due this guy who spotted me walking down the main drag in my city and pulled over to talk to me, fresh from a robbery. I knew the robbery was fresh because he said it was. Usually cool as ice, he was quite panicked because he had cut his hand on someone’s window.
(swearing below the break)

This was back in the day when they had this alarm tape around windows and I think he’d cut the center of the window out, taking pains to avoid disturbing the tape and setting off the alarm. Something like that. He told me but I did not take notes because I am not a thief. I can tell you he was skinny and he said this was real handy when it came to breaking and entering but in whatever case, he cut his hand. He showed it to me, it was wrapped in a shirt and it was bloody all right.

“I think I left some blood on the window,” he said. “I think I fucked up bad this time.”

I had no idea what to say. It’s not like I had sympathy for the guy, he’s a thief! Matter of fact the only reason I knew him was on the chance he was lying, You know. I thought he might be making up stories although he did show me some pretty serious jewelry but in whatever case, I just stared at him as he rambled.

Apparently he had the load from the house in the back of his truck, covered in a tarp. The truck had a camper shell so I couldn’t see what he had back there. It was evening time, see? It was maybe 9 or 10′ o’clock so here I am standing next to this truck of stolen goods with a guy with a bloody hand when the police pulled up. Oh God.

We were in a Dunkin Donuts parking lot, along the side, pretty much behind the place and he must have seen the look of panic on my face because he mumbled instructions, “Act like you’re my girlfriend,” he said.

Um… see how I get in these bad movies?

The police pulled near the truck and shined the spotlight right into the back of it I couldn’t believe it. Busted, yes?

Not yet.

The cop driving opened his door and yelled to us, “What are you doing back here?”

“Talking to my girlfriend,” the burglar with the bloody hand yelled. “My girlfriend and I are having a fight,” he said, sheepishly and convincingly. I stood still, frozen looking at him. He lifted his chin slightly to prompt me and I turned to face the police.

“Are you all right, ma’am. Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” I said with my brain all scrambled. I was 15.

They told us to pull in front where it was better lit and then miraculously left but anyway, that guy had a very distinctive name. Only one person with that name in the world so I looked him up about 5 years ago and found him right away.

He was married with four kids and he owned a major real estate agency. I thought this was sort of funny. Still robbing houses, see?

One way or the other I am sure this is the case because this guy was a thief to the bone. He loved thievery although he did tell me was planning to just rob long enough to get enough money to start a business which is apparently what he did.

But here is what I am saying: This guy did not get rid of his thief gene, there is just no way. So when I googled him last night to get another look at him I found that his son has eclipsed him. Yeah, his son is a famous athlete, looks just like him. He is all over the ‘net and while I’d never do or say anything like this, if I met the kid I would think, “I knew you dad, the thief! ::smiles::

For the record, I never had any significant contact with that guy after that night. I was mad as hell, actually. I sounded something like this:

“What the motherfucking fuck are you doing pulling over with your bloody hand so I can go to jail, you motherfuckin’ thieving thief! I’m not going to jail for you - thieving son of a bitch! Am I motherfucking thief? No, I’m not!” And on and on and on of course. I really bitched him out and he was amused.

Prior I used to talk to him for hours because I did like him. He was smart, interesting and personable and I might have been his girlfriend had he not been such a thief and a pot smoker.

See, I was 2 weeks post being homeless, living in total poverty but I still had standards and this has not changed.

So I haven’t changed and either has he, I am sure. In fact I bet his wife has a big honkin’ ring on her hand, I wonder where he got it?