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The worst theives in the world.

13 May 201204:47PMlife

So, funny story...

For one of my units, we have to film and edit a shortish video portrait on a person of our choice. It just so happens that a member of our group knows just about the most interesting guy in the world, a certain Bryn Davis. Anyway, long story short, he's at least partially responsible for saving the Fremantle Power Station, and so that's where we ended up filming last Thursday.

Just an aside here. I'm not one of those people who normally breaks into abandoned buildings on a regular basis for sheer thrills, but by god this one makes me see why they do it. This building was like a goddamned cathedral. It was creepy and claustrophobic and cavernous and decrepit and echoing, impossibly grafittied from top to bottom and I'll be damned it if wasn't the most amazing place to just wander around and look at. I'm with him on this one. Demolishing a place like this would be terrible.

So anyway. Having spent about 20 minutes shooting wide shots of the exterior and definitely not shoving a thousand odd dollars worth of university-owned camera through a tiny window to check out the inside, we headed back to the car. And despite lugging said equipment, and thus lagging behind, I knew something was wrong by the surprised and shocked face which appeared on everyone's face as they approached the car.

The front window had been totally smashed in. A handbag was missing. At this point we start to panic. We had the camera and tripod with us, but another couple grand worth of rode mikes, boom poles and reflectors were in the boot.

Except for some reason, it was still there. We breathed a little. Then the phone showed up, 'hidden' behind a CD which was chucked out of the centre console while they were probably, ironically, looking for phones. And we breathed a little more. This left our (most likely male) thieves with a bright pink handbag, thirty bucks cash, some cancelled cards and a bunch of university notes.

The police found the handbag in a nearby park next day, with only the cash missing. It was at this point that we realised that we were quite possibly dealing with the worst thieves in the world.

If anything, I guess the moral of this story is to always be prepared. If they had known what was in the boot of the car, how many thousands of bucks worth of gear were there - if they had even been a little more methodical searching the car and not thrown CDs everywhere - they'd have drug money for months. Or years, I don't know, I'm not down on street prices for hard narcotics. As it is, they got a happy meal or two, and we got the infamy of being 'that one group', and a cool story to boot.

Suckers.

< I am extremely wet right now. Geocaching >