Tuesday, June 2, 2009


MYOB, as most folks know, means mind your own business. People will say this to you if they think you're being nosy...perhaps you overhear a conversation and have something to add, or a solution to a problem. But, as with so many other things, it's not black and white. How do you know if someone means well, or if you should just remind them: MYOB?
Generally, I try to mind my own business, I really do. Other times, I struggle with whether or not to get involved. My question to myself is always this...is it going to hurt, or help?
Case in point; yesterday we were in Corvallis, Oregon. There was a yarn shop I was interested in, so we drove by it in the morning. It didn't look open. Mark suggested we at least peek in the windows, so we parked and walked up towards the door. The sign in a window said they opened @ 10 a.m., and it was just after nine, so we'd have to come back. Then we noticed something very odd about the door.
Fiber Nooks and Crannies had been broken into. A piece of the door frame had been broken off, the latch was ajar, and the strike plate had been pried away and thrown into the bushes. We backed away from the door. Was someone in there?
We honestly weren't sure what to do...I was concerned that someone might think we were the ones who had broken in!
We walked down to the corner and called the police. Then, we washed the car, because the car wash was right next door to the yarn store. As we went through rinse cycle, some police officers showed up. I think I scared them, because one of them jumped when I said hello. They checked the door, pulled their pistols, announced their presence and went in. No one was there. None of the merchandise had been touched, thereby eliminating the possibility of a crazy crafter trying to finish a project at the last minute.
When we returned later and were checking out, the owner realized only then that her place had been broken into and that the cash drawer had been stolen.
She felt violated, needless to say. Mark and I hadn't intended to say anything to her, but she clearly had not been informed by the police of the break-in. We were obligated to tell her that much. I felt badly because no one had even called her! The officers left a card in the (broken) door with the report number, which she hadn't seen because she entered in the back and simply unlocked the front door from within; no indication of anything wrong.
I hope she feels better. I know I feel better for doing something besides minding my own business.

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