Last night I went over to a friend’s house to play fiddles and chat. The weather has turned warm here, but the evening wasn’t all that hot. I rolled the windows half-way down on the car and was going to leave Sabu there (she doesn’t get along with Kerrie’s dog) for the hour or so I expected to stay.
Kerrie insisted that Sabu would be happier in her back yard behind a wood fence. I knew otherwise, but she insisted and so Sabu was exiled behind the fence where she couldn’t see me or anything else.
I took my purse into the house, but not my everyday bag – I left it on the floor of the passenger side front seat.
Yeah. I came out an hour later (after hearing Sabu barking at something) and the bag was gone. The only thing of value was my camera, but no pictures were on it ’cause that’s not how I roll. My planner (no critical personal info in there, just a cell phone number) a lovely little journal that I had been writing all of the Good Stuff in, some odds and ends that I like to have with me, nothing that can’t be replaced.
Also in the bag was my checkbook and 20-odd checks. Do you know how hard it is to deal with a stolen checkbook? I called the bank’s after hours line to see if I could get the checks cancelled, or at least flagged so they couldn’t be used, and was told that the computer was down and they couldn’t help me right now – call back in an hour. I called again this morning, but since the credit union was not yet open, they couldn’t help me. I called a third time and was told that I will have to close my account, open a new account and inform everyone about the change – I pay several bills online and some of those are auto-withdrawals, so you can see where this is going.
Not only do I have to go to the bank on a day when I have no extra time and close out my account (I finally memorized the number, fercryinoutloud!) and blah, blah, blah, just because some tweaker saw an opportunity. I spoke with the police and filed a theft report, but you and I both know that as soon as that asshole saw the bag had no value it went into a dumpster somewhere, it’s contents never to be seen again.
First I’m violated, and then punished. I’m kicking myself for not rolling up the windows and locking the doors like a good paranoid citizen. My car has been broken into three times while living in this town and I’m just grateful they didn’t break the window this time. How sick is that? I can’t go about my daily business and leave anything in my car for fear of it being stolen and/or my windows smashed.
Right, right – it’s my own fault for thinking that a car parked directly in front of a house in a nice neighborhood won’t get jacked for a worthless bunch of sentimental stuff.
People suck. Tweakers should burn in hell. Thieves, too.