I witnessed a burglary last night. Here in the building. Around 12:15 last night, everyone parted ways. Giselle and Chaz had taken off for a late-night scooter ride. Mayday had gone to sleep. Miko and Jessie were long gone. And Lana was in the bed. (We threw a surprise birthday party for Mayday late in the evening.)

I had gone back outside to smoke a cigarette. As I was smoking, I heard some noise. I looked through the space between the breezeway and the wall where the trees grow down to the first floor. In the alleyway through the back gate, I could see the bottom part of a bicycle and a man standing over it. Then I noticed a guy in front of Roger’s place on the first floor, fiddling with a bicycle lock holding the bicycle to the wrought iron railing. At first glance, I thought it was Roger. He rides his bike a lot. That’s probably his friend in the alleyway, waiting on him. It was shadowy, but he looked to be the same height.

Then some red pliers flashed in his hands. I thought, “That’s odd; he must be having trouble with the lock.” It’s not Roger, I realize. Roger’s living room light is on, though, and this fellow is looking up at the window nervously and looking back down.

I get up and walk to the other side of the breezeway to get a better look at the guy. To look through the space on the other side of the breezeway because it will give me a direct view of him, unobstructed from the trees and the fence. I get up, I look down. That’s not Roger at all. I don’t know who that is. Then I see him slip the lock off the bike and I think to myself that he’s finally got the combination undone and he’s opening it. I look at him dead in the eyes as he stares back at me.

I go sit back down. A few seconds later, I realize this can’t be right. I look back over the railing and the bike is gone. The man is gone. The guy in the alley is gone. I walk downstairs and walk over to the lock; the lock was cut. At that moment, Chaz and Giselle come walking in through the front gate. I tell them what just happened. Chaz and I get on our scooters to try and find these guys; these guys on at least one stolen bicycle. We drive through the streets and head down to 5th. We head over to Alton and up to 14th.

I run into a police officer, tell him what happened, give him a description. He says if we find him to hold him and call the police. If we don’t, go to the station and file a report.

Chaz and I drive to Flamingo Park. We see guys on bikes but it’s not them. Even though we can’t see their faces off in the distance, the clothing is different. We drive back to the building.

Roger, whose door I had knocked on before I had left, was now upstairs. Giselle was there. Alejandro was there, having come back from work. Mayday was up, never having gone to sleep. And Luci. As it turns out, it was Luci’s bike. She doesn’t carry it upstairs and instead locks it up downstairs.

I apologized for not taking more action than I had. I felt badly. I couldn’t believe I was really watching a burglary, though. I thought that surely I wasn’t watching a burglary. I had thought that maybe it was another neighbor downstairs (since the first and second floor people kind of keep to themselves for the most part) or a friend of a neighbor. It couldn’t be a burglary.

I have no future as a security officer.

This is the second bicycle Luci’s had stolen in six months on the beach, apparently.

(Btw, that is neither Luci nor her bike in the photo. It’s just a photo. But as soon as I have a photo of Luci’s bike, I’ll post it here.)