Crimes of Opportunity Abound

 

Crime in Atlanta is as routine as ants at a picnic.  Atlantans who live within the extended city limits defined by its infamous circular I-285, or the city by-pass highway known as The Perimeter, develop living habits designed to thwart the purse-snatches, the daylight burglaries, and the all-too-many armed robberies on their walks from night-life sanctuaries to their cars.

Atlanta has become a hot new location for the motion picture industry.  My neighborhood of Inman Park is a favorite choice because of its carefully restored inventory of 19th century Victorian mansions and thick, leafy canopy of centenarian oaks.  Recently a crew set up a front porch for external shots and wrapped for the night.  When they returned the next morning, they had been relieved of the porch furniture – all of it.

Since the bottom fell out of the world economy, the bad guys have sunk to new lows.  Where once it was de rigueur to awaken to the sound of glass shattering as skilled thieves break into parked cars attempting to steal pricey portable GPS systems, laptops, wallets and anything else the unenlightened owners left in plain sight.  Residents know better.  Some even leave their doors deliberately unlocked to avoid the trip to the glass replacement guy, something the cops frown upon.  Those same cops, however, treat a report of a car break-in with a huge yawn.

Now the gangs have made themselves a lot more comfortable.  Instead of risking detection out in the open, they have started invading parking decks attached to apartment complexes in the middle of the night where they can “shop” the cars unmolested.  One morning some 35 cars in one deck had been vandalized.

This latest opportunistic crime, however, is too much.  The owner of one of the local businesses was standing in front of his establishment talking on his cell phone.  A man on a bicycle pedaled by, slowed and circled back.  The shopkeeper, engrossed in his conversation, saw the biker but assumed he was circling to wait for a companion to catch up or some similar scenario.  Suddenly, the biker rolled by the shop owner and snatched the cell phone right out of his hand.  Before the victim could figure out what had just happened, the biker had sped down the hill and out of sight.

I am one of the gazillion people who walk around talking on my mobile phone.  When I walk the dog I usually use the time to make a call to my mother or my sister to both check in and kill time.  This latest assault in the ‘hood has me afraid to carry my phone.  The problem is I am afraid NOT to carry it, in case I fall (as I am apt to do) or witness some kind of emergency and need to summon help.

I deeply resent the fact that these soulless urban thugs have gained the power to have me alter my lifestyle.  If asked why they do these things, some will say it is part of a gang initiation requirement – to prove they are “down” with the program.  Others simply say they do it because they don’t have the money to buy their own and they need one.

Before anyone is tempted to suggest I move into the suburbs or out in the boondocks, let me quickly admit that it is my choice to live in the city.  I love the vibrancy, the city sounds and sights, the access to cultural and entertainment facilities.  I am not a fan of the sameness of suburban neighborhoods with their tract houses, rolling lawns and emphasis on conformity.  And I would perish in the isolation of a country setting.  No, my chosen living environment is what I prefer and I, like all my neighbors, simply rant, rave and learn to cope with the negatives.