This diary title "Fun with Crime" refers to a very minor crime. Some years ago my city was going through a population boom and the police department was rushing to add staff.
Then I was employed in a large office where almost all my co-workers commuted in from conservative exurban areas. For the most part their opinion was that cities are dangerous, period. I was an oddity as the only employee who lived in-town. The majority opinion was that my choice of residence indicated my reckless disregard of the dangers involved.
I love starting the day with the daily newspaper. So I was very annoyed when some early riser thief began stealing the newspaper from my front yard.
I began rising even earlier and replacing the current morning newspaper with an old one that had been set aside for recycling.
The newspaper thief took the bait for two mornings. On the third day, the old newspaper I had put out for bait was discarded on the sidewalk.
So, the next morning I tossed my old newspaper onto the front yard of my neighbor's house (they didn't subscribe.)
The newspaper thief again took the bait. About half-way down the block the old paper was discarded.
After that, I had no problem.
I related this story to a few of my suburban co-workers and they did not think it was funny.
"Why didn't you just call the police?" they said.
"Call the police for something so minor--are you kidding?" They didn't get it.