That Hurts

I have been violated and I don't mean in the good way that they show in movies that typically involve a 20 year old surgically enhanced vixen that loves to be real friendly with Pizza delievery boys.

For the record, I was a pizza delivery boy when I was 17 and that shit never happens. I always hoped it would. The closet that I ever came was when I got accosted by a goat and she just wanted the pizza more than she wanted me.

I woke up yesterday morning to find that my car had been broken into. Although there wasn't much skill required because I left my car door unlocked. I know, I know, I'm the dumbass but I'm not going to blame myself for a jackass fucking with my car.

When I first looked in my car I saw that my glove compartment was open and all the shit was dumped on the floor. At first I just thought that Hossmom was looking for something before she went to work but the more I looked around my car the more I had my doubts.

The radio was still there which you wouldn't think it would be. Then I looked at my satelite radio and then I knew something was amis. I had my satalite radio installed in my car, it's basically bolted to the dash and it would take some serious work to undo it. To thier credit, they gave it a pretty good shot.

They tried to pull out the wires for the radio but couldn't get them. The result being that they basically just fucked up my radio. I started looking around to see what else was missing and wondering what else I might have left in my car. My cell phone was still in the door which I thought was surprising, you would think that a thief would take that without a second thought. Luckily, my wallet wasn't in the car but I do leave it in there sometimes.

There was only one thing missing, my GPS system. Son of a bitch. That thing is like 350 bucks and my kids and I use it all the damn time getting around our new town.

I was seriously pissed.

I called my wife and told her. She told me that her glove compartment was open too this morning and thought the same thing I did, that I had been looking for something. Lucky for us, nothing of importance was in there.

Her first response: Don't touch anything! They probably left fingerprints! Call the police!

Maybe I'm just jaded or maybe I've just been burned because I've had to deal with this a couple times in the past. Back when I was a caseworker my car had gotten broken into twice. The places that I had to go and investigate were not the um, best or drug/crime free, so you had to be careful. Each time I called the cops and each time it took them over an hour to get there. At that point, they took a statement, a description and a copy of the report so that I could file insurance.

That was about it. The second time I actually saw the guys doing it, yelled at them and got a license plate number. I told the cop about that feeling like I would actually get some justice. Anyone care to take a guess what happened. Absolutely nothing. The truth is that it's just not taken to seriously as far as any real investigation goes and who can blame them. There's got to be thousands of these.

So when my wife told me to preserve the crime scene so that CSI could do their magic, I started laughing and then explained the real world to her. Again, maybe I'm just jaded because of my last experiences.

Looking at the whole experience I have my own views. First off, there was some stuff left that I think professional thieves would have taken. The cell phone was left which is odd as any real thief knows that's a good thing to steal and easy to unload. Second, a car radio is almost a given. If not the satalite radio then at least my car radio.

This leaves me to believe that I got hit by some unexperienced teenagers. I think that they wanted something that they could use themselves and didn't have the experience or no how to do a good job, lazy bastards. Atleast let me get robbed by professionals for christsakes! This is not Hossman's elementary school for thiefs, I'm a master's program. Yeah, that's whey I left my car door open.

For some reason, I feel dirty. I feel that my whole house is dirty and I'm not really sure why. It's probably because someone was rifling thorugh my shit and it wasn't a mistress.

It's not like we live in a bad neighborhood, we actually live in a very nice neihborhood in the sticks of Missouri. There are cows practically across the street! We moved from Dallas because partly we wanted to get away from the random crime but I suppose you can't.

Hossmom and I took a walk tonight and I think I found another clue. I am Dick Tracy, I should start a sluething club and take on jilted hot lovers. That would be cool.

We took a path in the woods, the first time we did this, and found some grafitti. It was the typical skateboarding stuff: "Skate or Die". Glad to see that never goes out of style. But there was one that stood out. Whoever wrote it mispelled the word whore. They left out the H. That's my thief, that's my dumbass.

Maybe I should plan a stakeout, see who shows up and then dispense a little justice. I'm thinking a trap like Arnold set in the movie Preditor. Sharpen some sticks, cover myself in some mud, start a big bon fire and then send the little Mexican chick to wait for the chopper.

In the meantime, does anyone have a free GPS system for me?

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