NYPD 50th Precinct

One experience does not a track record make but had a noise complaint once and they brushed me off like a flake of dandruff. I’m a regular working stiff in an apartment building on Manhattan College Parkway. I have a sneaking suspicion that if the call about a noise complaint came from one of those multi-​million dollar homes in Fieldstone a few blocks away my call would have been responded to. I know this was not a high priority call but this is a low crime area and it’s hard to imagine that they were that busy… who knows, maybe I’m being too hard on them… they’d be there if it was a real emergency.

After kicking in my bedroom window, the thief used my suitcases to steal my stuff. He trashed my bedroom (tossing everything looking for secret treasures — hah little did he know that I am the secret treasure in my bedroom… but I digress, and this guy was an idiot).
He stole my laptop, docking-​station, monitor, keyboard and mouse… but forgot the battery or the power supply. Then he went through everything else looking for valuables. A couple of cameras, some small stuff. An ice cream container from Buckingham Palace filled with British coins.
I called 911 from my doorway. My door was open when I got home. I looked into my apartment, and my monitor was gone. I pulled out my Blackberry and called 911 for the first (and hopefully last) time in my life.
The operator stayed on the phone with me was I walked from room to room. She was great. My bedroom looked like a cyclone hit it, and my Teddy Bear was crumpled under broken glass. The thief left the light on in my bathroom. I was very angry.
Soon enough, a cruiser pulled up with two patrol officers. They were very professional and kind. I was still very angry. When we were walking through my bedroom, assessing the damage, one asked in a concerned tone «Is it usually this messy?» I resisted the urge to slap him, but then realized that these people see the worst of society on a daily basis. I said «No. I made my bed this morning before I left.»
As we filled out paperwork, their supervisors came. Three plainclothes officers, who were also very kind and they listened to my anger. I was advised not to touch anything until forensics came. I wanted a drink, and one officer suggested that I just wear gloves and have a drink. I couldn’t do it. I sat in my chair and never took of my coat. At 11, a detective came to let me know that forensics would come in the morning.
I slept in the sofa that night — still angry, I pulled some spare pillows from the closet, and my emergency heater and I closed the door to the bedroom. I slept well, anger is exhausting.
In the morning a team of forensic officers came. They got a footprint from my pillow (size 12 boots — just like the guy upstairs) and a print from my desk. I was fingerprinted to rule out my own prints, and after they talked with me for a while, they left and I started cleaning.
That evening, the detective who is handling the case came to visit me. He had called a few times during the day, and when he and his partner arrived, I felt like I knew them already.
This is just a brief sketch of what transpired over my Friday and Saturday. The upshot is, the police were AMAZING.
I’m sorry that they ever had to come into my life, and my stuff is gone. It may be a miracle that I can get it back, but my computer was password protected, the majority of my stuff was backed up using dropbox, and x-​marks. Yeah, it’s going to cost me some money (I don’t have renter’s insurance).
If you stumbled across this review, take a moment and think about how your life would be affected by a robbery. Make a list of your stuff and their serial numbers. (you might on a long shot get your stuff back). Some of my digital pictures are gone forever. But the majority were saved.
I’ll update this if the NYPD come through with finding my stuff — but until then, life goes on… My life has officially become a cautionary tale…