If someone wanted to make a lot of money, they would rent out a space in one of the many vacant strip malls this economy has produced, and open a computer learning center for dummies. I would be their first, and most enthusiastic customer. I would give them a glowing testimonial, praising their staff, and the genius of their step-by- step curriculum.
“Before I went to The Computer Learning Center For Dummies I could barely send email, – Now I self publish on Amazon Dot Com!”
I could probably just say, “Amazon” and people would know what I’m talking about, but for some reason I feel it is necessary to add the “Dot Com” at the end. I don’t know why.
I am way outside of my comfort zone with these machines, and my latest struggle has been that, ever since my laptop was hijacked by Windows 10, the screen that I am working on will automatically reduce in size, so small that I can’t even read what I am writing. I was relieved when, one day it automatically enlarged; but yesterday it spontaneously reduced itself again.
This time I was ready for it, and brought a magnifying glass with me to the McDonald’s where I do my morning writing session.
Yesterday morning a kid walked up to my table and held out two golden balls the size of glass marbles. I write with my headphones on; so I didn’t feel it rude to just send him on his way with a short wave of the back of my hand, signalling that I was not interested in his shinny golden oddities.
He moved on.
What were they? Brass? Little containers? What would they contain? Drugs?
I went back to my writing, and a few moments later it happened!
The kid had handed a tourist the balls for closer inspection, and as the poor sucker rolled them around in his palm, judging their weight; the kid grabbed his blue nylon valise, and quick as the devil – he was out the side door, and half way down the driveway of The Emerald Suites, before he vaulted the wall behind Siegel Suites, (where I live). The tourist made an attempt to give chase, but the kid was just too fast.
“It had my iPad, my phone, passport, credit cards, cash – everything!”
I had to admire the hustle and the athleticism it took to make that one-handed jump over a ten foot high wall, but – “Come on man … not the tourists! The tourists are our bread and butter.” That was Steve Wynn’s money you stole, and Metro isn’t going to stop until they catch you.
I hope you know that you were on surveillance camera from the time you stepped onto Mickey D’s parking lot, through the front door, when you came up to my table, when you distracted the pigeon with the your balls; right on through the Embassy Suites driveway, … and don’t think Siegel Suites doesn’t have coverage of their back wall just because there are a bunch of homeless alcoholics staying out of the sun there on a daily basis …
If you had worn some ratty old hoodie, you could have tore it off, and walked naturally down East Twain, …
But you were decked out in bright, brand new sports team glory, and now there is a BOLO for a black male: 5’8″ – 150 pounds, wearing St. Louise Cardinals gear, black Adidas sweat pants, and brand new Nike high tops.
I know there are no jobs. And I know you’ve got to eat, – but you are stepping on Sheldon Adelson’s turf when you rip off a tourist. Steal with a casino or a cab company, and they make you king, – steal a wallet from a tourist eating breakfast, and they throw you in The Clark County Jail …
You should know better.