Last week in New York City, a career criminal broke into a van in Brooklyn, planning on robbing it. Instead of a CD player or a GPS device or spare change, though, he found all sorts of scary things — gas cans and cups and tubes and wires.
So, what did he do?
He took the van, left it down by the waterfront (well away from anything), then called a cop with whom he had had some past dealings (not necessarily positive ones for our bandit) to tell them about it.
One little detail leaped out at me: the van had been in the same spot for about a month before our patriotic thief broke into it. And just where was it sitting?
The street is lined with brownstones, and there’s a ballet studio and a small Muslim school.
Obviously, we need to pay far more attention to those shifty ballerinas.