He Was a Pole Man


Frank and I live in a pretty nice neighborhood. It is not considered "dangerous" --whatever that is code for--but it used to be, fifteen or twenty years ago. Back then, most of Brooklyn was, I guess. But even so, no matter where you live, the possibility of being robbed is just part of life. Of the three friends of mine whose apartments were broken into in the last year, all of them lived in neighborhoods well out of my price range.
So it's fairly unsurprising that in our two-and-a-half years in our neighborhood someone has attempted to rob each of us once, except for the attempted part. See, somehow, we have had run-ins with the dumbest possible criminals and, despite being generally timid non-confrontational people, we’ve foiled two robberies. Foiled! Us!