Andy’s eyes darted around angrily at all the people who wouldn’t look at him. If he expected sympathy, he wasn’t getting much; if anything, people seemed to think it was funny.

“Hey, see how you like it when someone steals your porn stash,” he said to a patron, who quickly turned away.

“Dude,” Damien whispered, “she’s seventy years old.”

“So?”

A police officer finally arrived twenty minutes after the manager at Hal’s dialed 911. At last, Andy had an eager audience.

“Use of force in a larceny from the person?” he said while he scribbled furiously. “That’s a felony, sir. I’ll get an APB out ASAP with the perp’s description. Now, what was in the box?”

“Videos, magazines, some CD-ROMS.”

“Mm,” said the cop. “Titles?”

“Wait a minute,” Damien interrupted. “If this guy gets arrested, are we going to have to testify or something.”

“Well, yeah, if the guy doesn’t plead.”

“And we’ll have to say what was in the box.”

“The property will have to be identified, yes.”