My first apartment, I shared with two ladies while in college, was burgled one night while two of us were away; the third was awakened by noises in my bedroom (DON'T EVEN THINK OF GOING THERE!) and came to greet me. Only it wasn't me, it was a man trying on my shoes. Somehow, she convinced the man to leave - my doorway was right next to the entry door - and that was that. She phoned me at parents and I drove back into the city. The only thing missing was a pair of platform shoes - not silver. The burglar left behind a pair of good cowboy boots, which I wore for years afterwards, and a vial of amyl nitrate, which I promptly threw away. He also left behind the distinct aroma of alcohol.
While working at Carnegie-Mellon, I had a car stolen in broad daylight from a "secure" parking lot. The car was found three days later in a seedy section of town, but, no damage had been done.