Earlier today, The Local published its weekly police blotter. Now one recent crime victim tells her story.
Maybe I watch one too many crime dramas, but I really didn’t expect the NYPD to care as much as they did when my roommate and I were robbed.
Someone had broken into our humble East Village apartment in broad daylight, swiped a DSLR camera, an iPad, a good chunk of cash and a handful of sentimental jewelry. Not the brightest of burglars (none of the necklaces were worth over $20), but the incident did initially leave us in hysteria.
I was the first one home and the place was in complete disarray. Drawers opened, bags on the couch, toiletries on the bed.
“I’ve been robbed,” I screamed when my boyfriend finally picked up the phone.
He laughed, presumably thinking I was referring to a shopping deal.
“No, seriously – I’ve been robbed.” I cried on the phone while he tried to calm me down. “What do I do, what do I do,” I yelled, frantically running around to see what else I was missing: my headphones, my nail polish, my money. My heart sank when I saw my jewelry box gone. I had spent years collecting earrings from my travels around the globe.
“Do I call the cops?” I asked him.
“No, what can they even do?” he said.
As I came to learn, a lot more than you would think. Read more…


















