True Story

Lost and Burglarized While on the Wrong Side of Town

I felt like the lone wildebeest that crossed a lion’s path

One of the worst situations I ever found myself in was stopping for directions while lost and having my car broken into.

As one of my part-time jobs during college, I became a Tupperware Lady. This meant giving demonstrations, known as Tupperware parties, at various venues, mostly people’s houses.

After the initial shock of standing up in front of a room full of women and selling a product I was still familiarizing myself with, I became quite proficient at it.

One of my biggest customers in the beginning was myself, as I needed to purchase the items for display. For my demonstrations, I would bring plastic fruit, little toys, odds and ends, etc., to show all the uses of these resealable plastic containers.

I was doing well. So well, I found myself spreading out into new, unfamiliar territory as I gained new customers.

Lost

One night, as I was on the way to give a demonstration in a town I had never been to, with about 20 people waiting for me, I got lost. I ended up on 14th Street instead of 14th Avenue (or vice versa, I don’t remember) and couldn’t find the correct house.

There didn’t seem to be anywhere to stop for directions except for a small tavern along the street I ended up on. This was during the days before cell phones or GPS, so I was pretty much on my own. All I could do was stop and ask for help. That turned out to be a huge mistake.

After I parked my car and locked it, I walked across the street and entered the bar, where I observed several men standing around. I approached the first group and asked if they could give me directions. They said, “Ask the guy pouring drinks.”

The friendly bartender was only too glad to give me nice, long, slow directions and asked why I was looking for that house. There was no time for small talk — I was already late for the party.

Armed with new directions, I turned to leave but was stopped by the guys standing at the door — not physically touching me — just kind of blocking the door as they asked questions, seemingly interested in where I was going.

I told them I was in a rush and walked between them and out to my car.

Robbed!

When I put my hand on the door, I noticed it was unlocked. I was sure I had locked it.

I opened the door and climbed inside, but something seemed funny. It was then I noticed everything in my car was missing: my two huge suitcases of Tupperware, including the sample gifts for the hostess to choose from, and my smaller suitcase containing catalogs, order forms, and prizes.

What should I do? It became obvious these guys had stalled me while their friends emptied my car. There was no way I was going to confront them or leave my car again.

I started it up and kept driving until I found a police station, which turned out to be nearby. Had I known that and stopped there first, I would have avoided my unfortunate ordeal.

Still shaken up, I approached the officer at the front desk to tell my story.

“You’re lucky you got out of there before your tires were stolen,” he responded.

“What should I do?”

“Nothing you can do. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you won’t be able to prove anything. Go wherever it is you’re going, and thank your lucky stars that it wasn’t worse.”

Really? That’s it!?

Long night

After my experience, I still had to drive to this woman’s house with absolutely nothing to demonstrate — no gifts to give out, no catalogs, and no order forms.

Though half an hour late, the group of ladies was understanding and sympathetic. They told me I had inadvertently driven to the wrong side of town — yeah, no kidding!

The hostess, who had been to several Tupperware parties recently, pulled pieces out of her cabinet for me to demonstrate, and I was able to play games as I remembered a few.

She also had one of the current catalogs, which she passed around, and the girls put their orders in on blank pieces of paper. I was a mess, struggling over every word and shaking through most of the night.

The good news was that the Tupperware I did bring for my demonstration had been used — some of it didn’t have lids or matching pieces, my wallet was in my pocketbook, which I brought into the bar, and my tires were still intact.

I started thinking that even though they were stealing from me, they may have been furious with what they found vs. the treasure they thought they were receiving.

However, the order forms contained my name, phone number, and address.

Fear sets in

I made it home safely that night, but I did not sleep much. I relived the scenario in my head dozens of times before finally dozing off, then had it in the forefront of my mind all the next day.

For several weeks, I was afraid they would come to my house and rob me again.

Not too long after this incident, as I was finishing dinner, I noticed lights in the parking lot behind my apartment.

On this particular night, a car pulled up close to my car, shined its lights into my apartment, backed up, circled the lot, and then came back to face my window, once again shining its lights into my home.

I freaked out and called the police, scared over what I believed was going to happen next. In my mind I felt the thieves found my place and have come for revenge!

Luckily, the police station was only one block away, and two officers arrived within a few minutes.

I had explained to the dispatcher about the strange car behind my apartment and my recent encounter with having my car broken into, hoping it would help the police confront the driver upon their arrival.

Inside my apartment, scared, I waited, and then I noticed the car in question was leaving the parking lot. When the policeman knocked on my door, I asked, “What’s going on? Aren’t you going to arrest them or detain them?”

“No,” he said casually. “It’s your neighbor. She’s giving her son driving lessons!”

Was my face red!

Apology

The next day, I had to apologize to my neighbor for having the cops approach her.

She said, laughingly, “I’m sorry. I forgot about your car being robbed! You must have been so scared. I should have told you we’d be back there.”

It took me a while to realize that the thieves had no intention of coming after me.

Parking in their territory made me fair game, like a wildebeest crossing a lion’s path — but for those predators, it was over — onto the next innocent victim who becomes their prey!

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