This crime was so petty, I'm guessing it's not going to make it into the crime report (my favorite part of your paper).

I'm hoping you'll print my little story so that others will learn from my mistake.

Today I had 10 yards of compost delivered to our house - incidentally, the driver was incredible; he backed a 30 foot truck onto our lot, avoiding my flowers with six inches to spare. I can barely park my station wagon. I was impressed.

As my children frolicked in the small mountain, which looks like something out of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, a man stopped by on his bicycle. He said he was a neighbor and runs a yard service. He offered to get our mower started, and spent some time fiddling with it, including emptying the tank into a bucket.

I started to get anxious about him when he went to empty the bucket into a bottle while he had a lit cigarette in his mouth. He asked to use the bathroom, which I simply sidestepped - I don't let random strangers use our bathroom - and then he offered to get some gas for the mower. He rode off on his bicycle, with my gas can and $5 for gas.

About an hour later, I called the phone number he left. Amazingly, an older woman answered the phone. I asked if she knew the man in question and she said, "Yes, that's my son. He just stole my purse and I reported him to the police. He's got a drug problem."

So be aware, if you are at a gas station on Delridge, and a tall black man in excellent physical condition (except for his teeth) with an extremely heavy Brooklyn accent and yellow sneakers asks you for a few dollars so he can fill his gas can so he can get somewhere, don't give him the cash. He's a reprobate.

I don't mean to complain all the time. I really do love our neighborhood.

Betsy Hoffmeister

Delridge