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She put on her best shoes. She put on her nicest shirt. She got into her dress pants. She brushed and straightened her hair. She applied her make-up. She sprayed perfume on herself. She was ready for her job interview. She looked in the mirror one more time. She looked professional. She grabbed her purse and walked out the door. She entered her car and drove away. The interview was on the sixth floor of a building. She took the elevator. She entered the interview room. She was greeted by four people. They were dressed in suits. The interview began. They asked her hard questions. She answered the best she could. She was confident and friendly. They liked her, she got the job. She was overjoyed.
Joy, Samantha, and Maggie were walking around town. The weather was nice; everyone seemed happy; the girls had each other. Just when everything seemed perfect, the girls heard a scream. "That man just took my purse!" an old lady shouted. Joy ran after the man without thinking. She was a professional track runner, so she was fast. She caught up to him easily.
Hey, give that bag back!" Joy demanded. The man tried to run away, but Joy snatched the bag away from him before he could. A police officer saw the whole thing happening. "I can take it from here," he told Joy. Joy thanked him. "Next time, don't run after criminals. You might get hurt," he said.
Joy gave the bag back to the old lady. The old lady was so happy and called Joy a hero. She took out her wallet and gave Joy $50! Samantha and Maggie were impressed with Joy. “You did a great thing, Joy.” Samantha said. Joy blushed. She didn’t feel like a hero. The next day, the city newspaper wanted to do a story and interview with Joy. Joy decided to do it, because a little part of her wanted to be famous.
He stands on the corner. He sells purses. He says, "Ten Dollars!" over and over. Many women stop. They look at all the purses. They pick up the purses. They look inside the purses. They put the purses on their shoulders. Many women buy a purse. Some women buy two purses.
She gets dressed. She grabs her purse. She leaves her apartment. She goes downstairs. She walks out of the building. She walks one block west. She arrives at the subway station. She walks down the stairs. She goes through the turnstile. She walks down some more stairs. She waits on the platform for her train.
Patty got a doll for Christmas. It is her favorite doll. It is a rag doll. It has a yellow dress. It has a blue blouse. The name of the doll is Molly. Molly has bright red hair. She has red lips. She has blue eyes. She has a pink ribbon in her hair. Molly is wearing red shoes. She's wearing white socks. Molly has a purse. Her purse is pink. The purse is empty. There is nothing in the purse. There was a little mirror in the purse. But Patty lost the mirror. When she lost the mirror, she said, "I'm sorry, Molly. I will get you another mirror.
Sally had a cold. Her nose was red. She pulled a tissue out of the tissue box. She blew her nose. She threw the tissue into the trash. She looked at her fingernails. Her fingernails were too long. She needed to cut her nails. She opened her purse. She took her nail clippers out of the purse. She clipped all the nails on her left hand. Then she clipped all the nails on her right hand. She looked at both of her hands. Now her nails were nice and short. She put her nail clipper back in her purse. She pulled another tissue out of the box. She blew her nose again.
She was sitting in a bar. She was drinking beer. She was getting drunk. She started to talk. She started to talk too much. She talked about her cash. She talked about a lot of cash. She had thousands of dollars in her purse. She said she had $20,000 in her purse. She said it out loud. Everyone in the bar heard her. Everyone looked at her. She took some cash out of her purse. She held the money in the air. "Look," she said, "here's $1,000 cash." She waved it around. She laughed. She put the money back in her purse. She had another beer. A man was watching her. She finished her beer. She left the bar. He followed her.
Bev was a real estate agent in New York City. She usually left home about 10 a.m. She never drank or ate anything until she returned home. "You need energy. Eat some lunch," her husband said. "I can't eat anything after I leave the house. I don't carry a toothbrush or toothpaste," she said. "No problem. Put them into your purse," he said. "That's extra weight," she said. "Every day I walk 30 blocks. I climb 20 flights of stairs. My purse is so heavy. Besides, it's full. I don't have room in my purse. Look." He looked into her purse. It was full. He lifted it. It was heavy. "Well, you should at least drink lots of water. I'm sure all that walking makes you thirsty," he said. "I get thirsty, but I don't dare drink," she said. "It's too hard to find a clean place to pee!
He looked at the laundry basket. It was full of his wife's clothes. She was at work. She worked seven days a week. She was a real estate sales agent. She showed apartments to renters every day. She carried a heavy purse everywhere. Many real estate forms were in her purse. Many keys were in her purse. When she came home, she was tired. Her feet hurt. Her back hurt. He decided to help his wife. He took the laundry basket downstairs to the laundry room. His wife always separated her colored clothes from her white clothes. He didn't do that. Why spend extra money? He didn't separate her colored and white clothes. He stuffed all her clothes into one washer. He selected Hot Wash. This will make her happy, he thought. A hot wash will kill all the germs. She hates germs. He was proud of himself.
New York City has thousands of workers. It has workers that you don't see. It has workers that you do see. The workers that you do see are right on the street. Street vendors are everywhere. Vendors set up on the wide sidewalks. They sell purses. They sell sunglasses and boxes of perfume. They sell wallets. They sell books and DVDs. Food vendors are everywhere. Many of them have four-wheeled silver carts. The carts have blue and yellow umbrellas that say "Sabrett." The vendors sell food and drinks. They sell hot dogs and hot sausages. They sell meat on a stick. They sell huge soft pretzels. Some vendors sell only nuts. Others sell only produce. Artists sit on the sidewalks. They'll draw your portrait. They'll draw you a funny face or an artistic face. Newspaper vendors stand on corners. They'll sell you the latest New York Times or Daily News.
Eddie drove over to see Betty. When he got to her apartment at about 3:15 p.m., he saw that her car wasn't in the carport. So he wrote a note: "Hi, Betty. I love you and I miss you. Love, Eddie.
He was about to tape the note onto her front door when he saw her car pull up. She walked up the stairs. Instead of the big smile, hug, and kiss that she usually greeted him with, she simply said, "What's up?
You didn't call me back for the last two days, honey, so I came over to see you." He gave her the note. She opened it, read it, and put it on the kitchen table.
That's sweet," she said. She walked into her bedroom. Eddie followed her. She put her purse on the bed. Eddie tried to hug her.
I have to wash my hands," she said. When she came out of the bathroom, she told Eddie that he should go home. She said that she was hungry and tired. She was going to fix something to eat. Then she was going to take a nap. She said that she might call him later.
During Eddie's entire five-minute visit, Betty had constantly avoided his eyes. Instead of walking him out to his car, like she usually did, Betty locked her front door as soon as Eddie was outside her apartment.
Maria had to buy food for herself and her son. Divorced for ten years, she was used to doing the shopping for her son. He was a junior in high school, which meant that he would be entering college in two years. Then she would be shopping only for herself. She felt sad when she thought of this. She hoped that he would attend the local junior college and then transfer to a university. That way he could continue to live at home for another two years. She loved him, and dreaded the day that he would no longer be her daily company.
Maria drove to Costco, a chain store that sold food in bulk packages. By selling in bulk only, the store helps its customers save money. She parked far from the entrance. That meant a longer walk, but also a faster exit from the parking lot. She grabbed one of the big shopping carts outside and pushed it into the store. Her purse stayed tightly hung over her shoulder. Surprisingly, the store wasn't too crowded.
In the produce section, she examined nine packages of seedless green grapes before she found one that she liked. She carefully selected some bananas, apples, and other fruit. But she couldn't find her son's favorite brand of tangerines. On the way home, she planned to stop at another market or two until she found them.
A 58-year-old woman, mother of three, grandmother of eight, was shot twice in the head Friday night. She was driving to the Wal-Mart east of Pasadena. Only a block from her home, she saw two kids spray-painting graffiti on a new building. She honked at the kids. They continued to tag the building. She honked again. Then she got out of her car and started yelling at them to stop it. They turned around and shouted obscenities at her. She got back into her car, telling the boys that she was calling the police.
She did not notice another car behind her. The car pulled up next to her. The passenger window rolled down, and two shots were fired. The two boys, who had been watching, walked over to the woman's car. One opened the driver's door and grabbed her purse. The other opened the passenger door and dug through the glove compartment. Then they calmly got into their friend's car and left the scene.
It is said, "If good people are silent, evil will win." This woman was not silent, yet evil won. The police caught a 19-year-old who they think fired the shots. He will be tried. If convicted, he will go to prison for 20 years, where he will get free food, housing, and medical care. And where he'll learn how to commit other crimes.
But because the prisons are so overcrowded, he will probably get out in 10 years. So, at the age of about 30, he will be out committing more crimes, while three children and eight grandchildren will never get to grow older with their grandma. For bravely speaking up, she was put down. People say that what goes around, comes around. But how often does that happen to cold-blooded murderers?
A woman is standing at a bus stop at noon. A van pulls up. A young man hops out of the van, grabs the woman's purse, gets back into the van, and it drives off.
An elderly man is standing on the sidewalk in front of his home at 10:30 p.m. He is admiring the full moon. A car pulls up right in front of him and stops. Two men get out. One man punches the old man in the mouth. The other man takes the man's wallet out of his pants. They get back into their car and drive off.
A woman puts her laptop and purse into her car in her driveway at 3:15 p.m. She starts the car, and then remembers that she forgot to turn off the TV. She goes back into her house, turns off the TV, and comes back to her car. Her purse and her laptop are gone.
The department of transportation built an elevated freeway on top of the 110 freeway in Los Angeles. The new freeway is supported by more than 100 thick concrete columns. Since the freeway was built, each column has been tagged with graffiti and repainted at least ten times.
Late one night, someone managed to raise a heavy metal shopping cart to the top of a flagpole outside a supermarket. The next morning, a 56-year-old supermarket worker hooked up the US flag and started to raise it by pulling on the rope. A second later, the cart crashed down on her. She was permanently paralyzed. When released from the hospital, she told a TV reporter that she forgave the culprit. "Please don't do this again," she said. "You might kill someone, and that would be terrible." A police spokesman admitted that they might not ever find the "prankster.
What are these flowers doing here?" Anita asked as she was about to sit in the car's passenger seat. The towel that covered the leather seat had a couple of small red flowers sitting in a crease. The flowers appeared as she straightened out the towel before she sat down. She always straightened out the towel before sitting down, because Logan sometimes left his glasses, pen, or other items on the passenger seat. She didn't want to break anything by sitting on it, nor did she want to injure herself by sitting on something sharp.
What flowers?" Logan asked. "These flowers!" she said sharply, holding the two little flowers up to his nose. He said he didn't know. He said he thought they had been there for quite a while. No, they hadn't, she told him, as she put them into a tissue and then put the tissue in her purse. They weren't there two days ago when she had last been in his car. Maybe they had been there, but she hadn't seen them, he suggested. "Maybe you're lying! Who did you buy flowers for?" she yelled at him. This was not the first time she had "caught" him cheating on her. She had never really caught him, of course, because he had never cheated on her. It was a little game she liked to play, just to remind Logan not to cheat.
Well? Who did you buy these flowers for?" she asked again. He was trying to think. He was sure he had seen the flowers lying there for days, but he had no idea where they had come from. He told her that he had driven for a while yesterday with all the windows open, to freshen the car. "You know how windy it was yesterday. Maybe the flowers got blown into the car.
Ha!" she snorted. "If I ever catch you even thinking about cheating on me, we're through! Got it?" On the one hand, Logan was too much in love with Anita to ever cheat on her. On the other, when she got bossy like this, he did think—however fleetingly—about moving on.
It is a crime that is getting to be common in Los Angeles. Customers are enjoying their meals at a restaurant. Two or more criminals stroll in and start waving their guns at everyone. They demand that everyone put their wallets or empty their purses into a bag, and then the gunmen stroll out. They usually wear hoodies or baseball caps with sunglasses to thwart identification.
At 9:30 p.m. Wednesday, the business establishment was a Starbucks. Three young men walked in, emptied the cash register, robbed the employees and the customers, and walked out to their stolen SUV. The police were able to respond quickly. A chase ended with one police car ramming the SUV from behind on the Third Street overpass. The SUV came to a stop, but, as usually happens, the three criminals were unhurt. They immediately hopped out of the SUV and started running in three different directions. It took about 10 minutes to catch two of them; one had hidden in a dumpster, and the other had broken a car window and hidden in the car.
The third one, instead of running, had decided it was quicker to jump off the overpass onto the freeway 20 feet below. He landed in an emergency lane, but did not get up and run. He did not get up at all. When police got to him, he was dead. "Too bad he wasn't holding hands with the other two when he jumped," said one officer, who asked to remain nameless.
Cliff was on the phone. "I couldn't believe it! It was broad daylight! These criminals have no conscience, no morals. They beat up and rob old people. They kidnap and rape young women. It's getting to the point where no one is safe anytime or anywhere." Cliff's wife had recently been punched, kicked, and robbed on a warm, sunny day. She had a black eye, sore ribs, and abrasions on her left elbow where she had been knocked to the pavement.
Janelle had gone to Santa Anita mall to buy a new pair of shoes. JC Penney was having a sale. As usual, the huge parking lot was crowded. The nearest parking spot she could find was almost 100 yards past the mall's north entrance. She got out of her car and started walking south toward JC Penney, the mall's northernmost anchor store.
She had only walked about 20 feet when she heard something behind her. She turned around. A hooded figure got out of the passenger side of a black Mustang. He walked right up to her. She clutched her purse. He punched her. She fell to the pavement, stunned. The man grabbed her purse. She held tight, until he kicked her in her side. She screamed in pain and let go of her purse. The man yelled something at her and got back into the Mustang. She heard laughter as it drove off.
A minute later, another car pulled up. A woman got out and asked Janelle what was wrong. Janelle was crying. The woman called the police, and helped Janelle to her feet. A police car arrived about 10 minutes later. The officer called for an ambulance, but Janelle said to forget it. She knew that most Los Angeles area hospitals were usually overcrowded with emergency room patients. Even if the ambulance managed to find a hospital that wasn't too overcrowded, she would have to wait hours before an emergency room doctor would see her and treat her. I could go online and learn how to treat myself by then, or maybe even be completely healed, Janelle thought.
Janelle used the phone of the helpful woman to call Cliff. Cliff played golf with a medical doctor almost every Saturday. Perhaps Dr. Kildare could look at her injuries. Cliff, angry but glad his wife was alive, said he would be there shortly. She told him to bring their son and her spare set of car keys, because her keys were in the stolen purse. Cliff and Donovan arrived just before the police officer finished filling out his report. Cliff hugged his wife gently. He told Donovan to drive home in Janelle's car. Cliff then asked the officer what the chances were of catching the attackers.
The officer shook his head. "Not good," he said. He told Cliff that robberies like this one happened daily throughout southern California. "Thugs are everywhere, prowling around like sharks in the ocean, looking for prey." Cliff asked the officer what could be done. "I know this sounds ridiculous, but we police can no longer protect you law-abiding citizens. There's simply too many criminals. Tell all your female relatives and friends one thing: Don't go anywhere alone, day or night. A woman by herself, even in public, might as well be carrying a bright neon sign that says: 'Victim here—Come and get me!' I'm not supposed to be telling you this, because if the word gets out, tourism will suffer in southern California.
The officer asked Janelle to sign the police report. He wished her a speedy recovery, and promised to do his best to help put the culprits behind bars. He reminded both of them that the two thugs now had their credit cards, address, car keys, and house keys. He suggested that they make the appropriate phone calls, change the locks to their house, and get new keys programmed for her car. Cliff told the officer that a couple of his friends were at his house, with guns, watching for intruders. Cliff and Janelle thanked the officer and the helpful woman. Cliff drove Janelle straight toward Dr. Kildare's house.
Maybe we should move," he told Janelle. "To another city?" she asked. "To another state," he said.
An elderly woman told the police that, as she entered a restroom, she was jostled by a woman behind her. A few minutes later, as she was about to pay for a moustache remover at a nearby store, she discovered that her wallet was missing from her purse. Apparently the woman who had bumped into her had cleverly stolen her wallet. This type of theft is called pick-pocketing.
Perhaps an even more personal kind of theft is known as housebreaking, or burglary. After such an intrusion, the victims often report a feeling of violation. They seldom regain the comfort and security level they used to have in their home. They constantly feel like they are being watched; they feel that if they go out, the burglars will again come in. They feel uncomfortable when they are home, and they feel uncomfortable when they aren't home.
Burglars get lucky or make their own luck. Sometimes homeowners forget to lock all their windows or doors. Sometimes burglars will break a window, cut through a screen door, or force open a side door.
Thieves have no shame. They will steal from anyone that they think is vulnerable. Of course, that means the elderly are their frequent victims. Some thieves are very clever; some are very lucky. All of them make an honest person's life more difficult. It's too bad that all of them can't be caught and converted into honest people.
Imagine that: a world with no larceny, a world where you can park your bicycle unsecured on the sidewalk, or leave your purse unattended in your shopping cart. Is this only a dream? Some say that if you can dream about it, it can happen.
A middle-aged man was fatally stabbed outside a nightclub late Saturday night. Bob Evans died about 1:30 a.m. after a woman stabbed him in the back outside Lovers Lounge. Police who arrived at the club found Evans lying in the parking lot with a bloody ice pick on the pavement next to him. A sobbing woman was cradling the victim's head in her lap and stroking his hair.
Police identified the woman as Sara Haynes, 39, an emergency room nurse. They took her into custody and said she would be booked for murder. She was Evans's long-time girlfriend. The lounge's bartender said Haynes started arguing with Evans when she saw him dancing with a young woman.
I thought there might be trouble when I saw her walk in," said the bartender. "She was looking all around, with a wild look in her eyes. He was on the floor dancing away with this young blonde. She went straight at them. She pulled the blonde out of his arms and started yelling at him.
Evans then led Sara outside, apparently to avoid a scene inside the club. A witness who was sitting in his car told police he saw them argue for a couple of minutes. When Evans turned around to walk back inside, Sara pulled the ice pick out of her purse and stabbed Evans several times. He collapsed to the ground. Then she sat down, put his head in her lap, and started crying.