(it's been an odd couple of months for me......)
About 6 weeks ago, at 11AM, my 17 year old daughter calls me at work in downtown Toronto (from the house in Mississauga) - "Dad, there's some old guy in a tye-dyed shirt stealing your motorcycle". It was all little odd - weird looking gaunt guy, 41 degrees Celsius with the humidex, rolling the bike from the side garage to the road (about 250'). She had not called the police, so I hung up on her and called dispatch.
I didn't call 911 because nobody was dying here - its just a sweet old 1976 Honda 550 Supersport, maybe worth US$6,000. I wait on hold for 12 minutes (!), and get a dispatcher on the phone. I explained that my kid called me re the theft, and the dispatcher was upset that she had not called 911. The dispatcher proceeded to question why I had not taught my kid to call 911, what was wrong with my kid's thinking, etc. I had to force this woman into a discussion of next steps, that went like this:
"I need the VIN and the plate"
"I can't give you those, they are at home, I am working in downtown Toronto"
"Well, I can't do anything without them"
"You could use my driver's license to look up my licensed vehicles, just like you would at a traffic stop"
"Well, I could do that, but for some reason (after inputting my license) I can't get the system to work"
"OK, then just send a car. It's 41 degrees, he's got no keys, he won't get far"
"How do you know he doesn't have a truck? How do you know it isn't on the truck by now? I am sure the bike is gone by now"
"Just please, send a car. I am virtually certain you will find the bike AND the guy in minutes"
"Yeah, we're not sending a car"
"Why not?"
"Its not an important crime. Nobody is dying. I will have an officer call you tomorrow so that you can file a report - your insurance will pay for the bike"
(Folks, I can't make this stuff up). So I get off the phone, and call my wife at home and ask her to drive around the block. One minute later, she's found the bike (on its stand, in front of house at the end of the street that folks were moving out of). They tell her that an old, gaunt guy parked it, dropped his empty beer can beside it, and walked off into the woods.
At that moment, TWO police cars screech to a stop in front of them. They are looking for an old gaunt guy in a camouflage jacket. My wife has the audacity to suggest that, at 41 degrees, he's taken the jacket off and is wearing a tye-dye shirt. The police, because they can't triangulate, insist that that is not their man. My wife insists it is, it is the guy who just stole this motorcycle, etc. They leave, unimpressed with my wife's ability to do simple deductive reasoning.
One of the movers can ride and offers to ride the bike back to our house (my wife has the keys), where my wife sends him back to the crew with a cold six pack for his troubles.
I get home at 6pm, and my neighbor Jeff texts me a picture of an axe leaning against one of his trees with the question "Is this your axe?". So I go over to Jeff's and yes indeed it is my axe. He shows me the security video of tye-dye man chopping down Jeff's hammock! Apparently, tye-dye guy attempted to break into the house behind us and was scared away by the elderly woman who lives there. He jumped the fence, and saw my garden shed. Went in, got the axe, chopped down the hammock, tied it to his bicycle and rode away. Then came back and stole my bike.