Some years ago, a female colleague shared with us her experience of being targeted by an underwear thief.
Her husband was away often, and that would be when her underwear would go missing. Never when he was in town. She felt that she was being stalked. Alone at night, she hardly slept. What if he broke into the house one night!
Fear, stress and the cost of replacing the stolen undies were taking their toll over the weeks.
Finally, she moved to the house of her parents-in-law, and rented out her house to a large family.
I once confronted an underwear thief.
The woman next door had complained about missing underwear. “He takes only expensive ones,” said her husband.
It was a public holiday and I was about to hang out the laundry. Just as I was unlocking the back door to go out to the backyard, a man on a motorbike came into the back lane. He stopped next door. Her had a pole with a hook. Not noticing me, he used the pole to hook a bra from the clothesline next door.
“Hooi! What are you doing?”
Stunned, he managed to utter, “Ur, ur, I am trying to hit the back window to get their attention, I’ve been calling at the front, they’re my friends, you see…”
“Show me your IC!” I demanded in my school teacher voice.
He handed it over but grabbed it back at once, perhaps realising his mistake. If I kept his IC and gave it to the police…
He roared off on his motorbike,
However, I had seen the full name. I also had his motorbike plate number. My eyesight was sharper then.
My wife and I decided to report the incident to the local police station. On our way there, we saw a sergeant on a motorbike. I stopped him and explained to him the situation. I gave him the name.and the motorbike plate number. He smiled, “Cukup.”
A few days later, the newspaper reported the arrest of the man, a serial underwear thief. He had a thousand bras and panties, which he dressed himself in whenever he was home. He loved looking at himself in the mirror in a bra and a panty.
What happened to him after that? I honestly don’t know.