What Do I Lose

When I can't find the locksmith of my choice, only one referred by others. What's so special about him. After all, couldn't I open the locked door with my own Slim Jim? If I choose, I can make sure he's licensed in the state. Not if I use some referral he pays to help him skate. He can demonstrate skills handed down by his father, and before him his grandfather. Old timer, and old fashioned, my choice will still make house calls, when other's won't bother. Pity if I don't make a call, and invite him in. Won't be long until punks, casing the joint, will surely win. Valuables, jewelry, and money, priceless heirlooms dear to the heart, Can't be replaced if pilfered, leaving drawers torn apart. Memories broken, hearts closed by sorrow and anger, Will lose trust, and intuition, to get the door fixed. Allowing new confidence in the safety of priceless stuff, Isn't that reason enough not to lose the opportunity, to call their bluff, those who can steal while we are away, to them, only another day's work, same old, same old, lucrative child's play.