Yesterday morning at 9:00 a.m., I moved my car from my building's parking lot to allow it to be cleared of snow (the lot, not the car). I parked my car across the street at a busy shopping mall. I would find out at about 4 p.m. that I had left the vehicle unlocked all day long.
As I approached the car, I noticed right away that the driver's door lock was in the raised position. I was very uneasy as I got in and checked my console and glove box, almost expecting to see something was missing. Though there was nothing of value, anyway, I breathed a sigh of relief that no one had disturbed the sanctity of my car.
If you've never had your car or home ransacked, you wouldn't know the ugly feeling of violation. It's sort of how I imagine a woman would feel after being sexually assaulted, but of course, far, far less devastating. But the thought of some low life who probably has b.o. and bad breath along with a wanton disregard for anybody's property or feelings going through your personal stuff is not a pleasant one.
There was a time when my vehicle would get broken into on a regular basis. I lost jewellery, a briefcase with personal papers inside, and even had my wire wheel covers stolen. When you first discover the crime, you feel like you could kill the bastard if he were right there.
Anyway, the absence of criminal activity on this day made me think of Michael Moore in Bowling For Columbine where he found a number of homes with unlocked doors in downtown Toronto, and commented on the contrast between Canadian and U.S. cities. I don't buy that large Canadian cities are filled with angels as Moore would have everyone believe, but it was a pleasant surprise that even in a busy shopping mall parking lot just outside Toronto, with hordes of young people from nearby schools coming and going, my open vehicle remained unsoiled by strangers' hands.
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