Someone broke into my car last night, but weirdly did no damage. The mysterious intruder ransacked the car but seems to have left everything (including a dozen CD's kept in the front armrest) strewn around.
This morning at my ceramics class, an officious man interrupted our labors in the studio to inquire, "Did anyone park a burgundy car, with a handicapped placard, in the handicapped spot near the studio?" It turns out that a man had been seen slashing this car's tires in, as everyone in the class remarked, "broad daylight." "I'm glad it wasn't one of you," said the officious man (which made me wonder: why were we better than the car's owner? Because we were aspiring potters?) Oh, how everyone in the class denounced the state of affairs in the current day and age (I'm the youngest one in the class, which is composed otherwise of retirees).
Our intrepid instructor went out later to investigate and reported back: "He knew the guy. The driver of the car knew the guy who slashed the tires. It had something to do with something." We all sighed a sigh of relief that it wasn't Random Tire Slashage.
But still, the ransacking and the denting of my own dear Volvo: what will happen to it next?
My car was broken into last summer! My CD collection was untouched. And for some reason, this offends me.
Scout, I felt the same way! I could see why the Anonymous Carransacker left our Sippy Cups CDs behind, but what about my Bowie and Beck Cd's? Do I need to go get some Death Cab For Cuties to keep in the car to up my hipness cred with burglars?
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