call the cops

Vintage blazer; Deus Ex Machina shirt; thrifted shorts; Converse shoes

My boyfriend surprised me the other day with a trip to see his old house.  The house burned to the ground in the Northridge earthquake, and all that remains are the bones - the rusty gates, the fence, kitchen tiles, and an empty swimming pool.

We spent the afternoon running around and taking pictures.  Everything was really fun until one of the neighbors came over and started interrogating my boyfriend.  What did we think we were doing there?  Was there some reason we needed to be taking pictures?

He calmly explained that his family owned the property, but the answer didn't seem to satisfy her.  She mentioned that there had been a few robberies in the neighborhood, and she was trying to make sure we weren't up to anything suspicious.

She has a good point.  Her house looked ripe for the plucking ('94 Honda out front, cheap paint job), and everyone knows that the best time to rob a house is during the middle of the day.  It's a good idea to be as conspicuous as possible, wearing bright clothing and carrying a camera on a tripod.  Before we rob your house, we'll run around an empty lot taking pictures of ourselves, which your lawyer can call up as evidence when our case inevitably goes to trial.

Next time, don't bother to ask us what we're doing, just call the cops!  (and yes, that is a naked woman on my shirt, standing on top of a motorcycle.  She's not afraid of you, either.)