This story was inspired by a photo taken from a collection of stock photos. Click here to see them. (I decided to leave this photo off to save your eyes.)

Being a successful thief didn’t get off to an easy start. My first ten or twelve jobs very nearly all ended in disaster. Thankfully none of them landed me in prison, though I have done my fair share of time. The one that sticks out most to me is the third one. It taught me never to break into a place without thoroughly checking it out first.

It was late December. I’d had been living rough for a couple of weeks. Christmas in eastern North Carolina can be a wet and miserable affair, but it’s not as cold as it is up north. I’d managed to break into a beach cottage on my first night in town and while it didn’t have power or water it at least gave me a break from the wind. I had my eye on a big house a bit further up the beach. They would have some electronics and maybe some other valuables I could steal and pawn.

I parked a few blocks away from the house in the battered Volvo wagon I called home in those days. I didn’t know much back then but I knew enough not to park my getaway vehicle in an otherwise empty driveway when I was in the course of my business. I pulled the collar of my navy windbreaker up and my toboggan down. The wind was howling that night.

I broke into a run and soon I stood in front of the big house. It was up on stilts and the side facing the street had a dozen windows. They were all boarded up and I didn’t see a single light. Some of these places got rented out, even during the off months, but I’d kept an eye on this one and there had been no activity. I went around to the side and found that the gate was locked. I grabbed the pickets and vaulted over lightly. I wasn’t that smart, but I was strong and light on my feet. I landed on the concrete pad and saw that this place had a huge pool and a hot tub. They were both covered for the winter.

The windows on the ocean side were also covered, the exception being the four sets of sliding glass doors. No light came from any of them. I went up the back steps, any creaking noises covered by the incessant howl of the wind. I walked up to the first set of doors and pulled out my picks. These locks were always pretty cheesy. The only thing that could really put a damper on picking them would be a wooden bar laid on the door’s track. There was no bar. I set to work and discovered that the door was unlocked.

You’d have thought that this would be my first indication to get lost. Like I said, back then I wasn’t too bright. I figured that maybe some lazy maintenance crew had left the door unlocked. I slid the door open and eased my way in. The air was warm. I smelled cinnamon and apples. Dumb as I was, even I figured that meant someone was home. There were no cars out front though. My greed got the better of me and I guessed that it had been rented, but whoever it was had gone out for dinner. Occupation meant that there would be some portable goodies.

I moved towards the front of the house, keeping my ears open for any noise. My eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness, so making out a light coming from under a door near the front of the house was easy enough. I skulked up to the door and put my ear against it. I couldn’t hear any noise coming from the other side, though I blame the howling wind, audible even inside the house for what happened next.

I turned the handle and pushed the door in. The naked, overweight man sat on the edge of the bed. A Santa hat sat perched on the top of his head and he was tweaking his nipples. Meanwhile the lady between his knees worked south of the border pretty vigorously. Neither of them noticed my presence. I backed out of there faster than a cat who’d had its tail stepped on. The door sat open a bit, but given the noises I could now plainly hear I didn’t think anyone would notice until I was gone.

It only took a few minutes for me to get back to my Volvo and beat it down the road. It took me a number of weeks to erase that mental picture from my brain. What I never erased was the lesson I learned about doing the pre-work.