Looking For Logic In All The Wrong Places
When our car was found, about thirty minutes after I reported it to the Police, a bunch of stuff was taken from the car – and a bunch of somebody else’s stuff was left behind. It’s like our car was taken by pack rats.
Fast Forward to yesterday evening.
We were sitting at home watching an impressively forgettable movie, when my phone rang. It was the Police.
The officer updated me on the progress of the investigation.
It seems that our Pack Rats were busy that same night that they took the Toyota. A house just a few doors away had their car broken into, and another a block or so the other side of Wabash Avenue, (The Champs Elysees of Terre Haute) (Terre Haute – That’s French for, “How many piercings do you have?). It is here that I enter into the picture again.
The good officer informed me that almost all of the stuff lifted from the Toyota had been left behind on the front lawn of the house across Wabash Avenue. It felt like I was caught up in a life-size version of the game “Chutes and Ladders.” I was asked to come downtown to the Police HQ to pick up our stuff.
This morning, after the obligatory stop for a quick prayer and coffee at the Chapel of St. Arbucks, I toddled on down to the Police Station.
When the officer, with whom I had spoken, took me into his office, he showed me several bags filled with our stuff. My wife’s favorite freebie sunglasses were there. The XM radio and remote were there. A paper gift bag filled with free ball point pens from the church were there. But the big payoff was a stack of CDS. Obviously, the Pack Rats do not share my taste in music.
My Betty Buckley CD – My Meatloaf CD – My Arthur Prysock CD, and about a dozen more. Scattered on somebody’s lawn like unwanted Tribune-Star newspapers. They relegated Johann Sebastian Bach to the same pile of disregard as Alan Jackson.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. Not at all. I am glad that we got our stuff back (That’s all it really is – Stuff.), and that nobody was injured.
The only thing that these Pack Rats decided to keep from our car was the cheap plastic ice scraper that we got as a freebie from somewhere and a $3 blanket that we picked up somewhere as a lap blanket for the car. All I can logic out about this is that they have a vehicle with a poor heater and/or defroster.
Some days I wonder. No, scratch that. Most days I wonder.
Further evidence has surfaced that the world is, indeed, going stark raving bonkers!
While I was sitting here in my corner office at St. Arbucks, (Let’s be honest – that’s how I look at it.) one member of the “Corps de Baristas” came over and asked me if I had seen the person who left the loaf of bread and the package of lunch meet on the table by the door.
“Uh…No,” was all I could say to that. Of course, I then got up and took a picture of the items. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
I’d already had lunch, and besides, it had been sitting there for nobody knows how long. Who walks into a Starbucks carrying a loaf of bread and lunch meat and then forgets that they had them within the span of time it takes to get a coffee?
I’ll ask them to check the CCTV footage. This is the same kind of activity that put my CDs on somebody’s front lawn.
Pack Rats – If they left the bread and cold cuts what did they take? Stuff.
The Mystery continues – but I’m going home.
Postscript. .. I have learned that the “Dwayne” whom I thought may have been involved in taking the car is, in reality, another victim. His truck was taken the same night as the Toyota. His stuff was just discarded in favor of our junk. Go figure.
<– Not Them