My Car and I

By | March 27, 2012

I woke up to a carless driveway. Where was Waldo (car)? The give away were the recycling papers scattered all over the back lane and the garbage can knocked over in a way that spelled bloody murder. No raccoons and no wind last night made for a good riddle. What happened then? The car was driven out during the night by someone too impatient to remove the said items. Because it was stealing and driving, which calls for a quick getaway. So they did.

I called the police – I will philosophically declare that we’re all due a call like that sooner or later – then called the insurance company. Then waited. Wait is what you do. So I did. With some coffee and writing in a coffee shop between. I walked home. And then it happened: I bumped into my car in a back lane as I was walking. Straight from a Dr. Seuss book, one would say, my empty car – poor empty car with nobody inside it – and I stared at each other knowing there will be no touching until the police shows up to inspect it.
So I called them up and they said wait by the car. If the meanies showed up to drive away I was supposed to call 911 instead of engaging them. Ha. Like I would. Perhaps to tell them not to smoke while using my car, it really stinks. It’s bad, even for car thieves.

I sat on a cement fence for an hour and a half reading Hemingway’s “A moveable feast.” At some point the police called to let me know they’ll be there soon. Good enough. An elderly gentleman drove by me twice. The second time he rolled down the window “It must be a good book, never seen anyone sit for so long on our fence to read.” I said it is but I was also guarding my car and waiting for the police. Fair enough. It would be safe to assume he’s seen a few things during his lifetime.

When the policemen showed up they apologized profusely for the wait. I told them not to worry, this has been the only hour and a half I had in the last month or so to sit down and read without interruptions. Really. So they inspected the car, mildly scolded me for not believing in locking doors (I know, I know, I should not assume that a neighborhood is safe just because). Then we said our goodbyes and I drove home. Car in the driveway, meanies begone.

All is well when it ends well. Given that life is way more complicated at the moment than car or no car, I will say I wish everything was as simple as recovering or not recovering a car.

I’m almost half way into the book. It really is a good one.

 

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