World’s Laziest Thugs, and the Nookie Bandit!
It certainly won’t come as news that thieves can be lazy; if they weren’t, they’d be working for a buck like the rest of us instead of holding up people at gunpoint. However, a couple of crooks who robbed a pedestrian on Dec. 14 showed even less willingness to burn calories than the average sedentary crook.
An East 75th Street resident was leaving his building at around 9:30 p.m. when he passed a double-parked vehicle that he recalls being either gold or brown, with four doors and (possibly) New York plates. As he walked by, the driver tried to rob him-without even going to the effort of getting out of the car.
“Hold up,” he stated. “Stop. Come over here.”
The 24-year-old pedestrian did what most of us would have done under the circumstances: He kept going. It was only then that the robber and his passenger-the former described as being about 16 years old, the latter around 18-roused themselves, disembarked and confronted him.
The 16-year-old produced a small black handgun from his pocket and said, “Give me whatever’s in your pocket.” And lest the victim mistake their lethargy for a lack of motivation, he added, “This isn’t a fucking joke.”
The words apparently had the desired effect, since the complainant produced his wallet, containing $130, from his right pocket and handed it to his assailants. They returned to the comfort of their car and fled in a northbound direction.
Too Early, Fella
It’s a well-known fact that if you’re a store’s first customer in the morning, or if you hail a cab just after it’s gone on duty, the merchant or driver may have difficulty making change. But one would assume that a bank, of all places, ought to have sufficient cash on hand no matter what time you show up. At least that’s what the bank robber who visited the HSBC branch at 186 East 86th Street on Dec. 14 thought. He arrived at 8:45 a.m., walked up to a teller and stated, “Give me money. I have a gun. Don’t push the alarm.”
Just in case she didn’t understand, he also handed her a note which said essentially the same thing. “Robbery,” it began. “Give me the money. Don’t hit the alarm.”
The teller handed the perp twenties and fives-apparently not the denominations the crook had fantasized about when planning the heist. “Give me more,” he demanded. So the teller gave him more twenties and more fives. “Give me more,” the bank robber repeated.
“I don’t have more,” the teller pleaded. “I just opened.”
Perhaps she was telling the truth, or maybe it was just quick thinking on her feet to limit her employer’s exposure. In any case, the ploy worked. The suspect departed the bank through its Third Avenue exit and fled in an unknown direction with a mere $845-hardly the payday he was undoubtedly anticipating.
Two witnesses who were also standing on line-one of whom courteously let the perp go ahead of him-told the cops who responded to the scene that they wouldn’t have any problem identifying him. The perp was described as being of thin build, with long brown hair and “scruffy” facial hair.
One-night stands aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. There’s the guilt, if you’re so disposed, and the potential disappointment of discovering that your new partner isn’t nearly as alluring in the light of day as he or she was while you were hitting on him or her–or he or she on you-at the bar the previous evening.
Add to that list of negatives the fact that they may turn out to be thieves, as one unsuspecting Don Juan discovered his date to be when he took her home on Dec. 15. The victim, a 31-year-old East 81st Street resident, informed the cops that he’d met a woman at a downtown bar and brought her back to his apartment at around 3 in the morning.
The gentleman apparently neglected to learn the lady’s name. Indeed, he was able to provide only the most minimal information about her to the police, describing her simply as a female white Hispanic. The deficiency in his descriptive powers may have owed something to the fact that he’d had a significant amount to drink, as he confessed to the cops. His condition may well have contributed to his date’s decision to call it a night and flee with some of his favorite things. When he came to, he discovered that she’d departed with his $3,000 Cartier watch, his Visa card, a Citibank debit card and 80 CD’s valued at $800.
However, the lady may have retained a certain amount of residual affection for him-she also took a pair of his shoes, valued at $140.