Dude, where's my Rolaids? Stockholder's W/O
Feb 10 '03
The Bottom Line Like Stockholder's son-in-law, morons are everywhere. Criminals too.
I'd like to thank Stockholder for his invitation to his "Son-In-Law Write-Off." While I could easily write an essay about any of my own in-laws, I would rather share an unbelievable display of "moron-ness" that tops all others.
My baby shower...
In late August of 1994, my mother threw me a baby shower. It was a supposed "surprise" shower, but I knew about it and was eager to celebrate. I was so excited (and enormous as well) about my shower that I was unable to sleep the night before it was to take place.
As I sat up, unable to rest, I considered leaving our apartment to get a late night snack. We lived in a fairly decent Chicago neighborhood, my biggest gripe was the difficulty parking. Because few residents had garages, the side streets were packed with parked cars. It was not unusual to have to drive around for a very long time without finding a legal parking space. More often than not, we could have to park a block or two away from our apartment.
As I pondered over whether or not to make a snack run, I decided it would not be wise for me to leave. I wasn't afraid of being mugged or worse, I just didn't want to lose my parking spot. I finally fell asleep, but the nightmare started when I woke up.
So, as tired as I was, I was happy when it was time to leave for my parents' house for my shower. I waddled down the street to get into my car, but when I got to the spot I had parked in, my car was gone. I asked my husband if we could have parked elsewhere, as there were many areas we would park regularly. It wasn't long before we realized that my Delta 88 was nowhere in sight.
Dude, where's my car?
We were certain that we'd parked in a legal spot, there were no signs posted, no driveways or fire hydrants blocked. Still, we called the police to see if perhaps our car had been towed, you never know, right?
Wrong.
As we sat on hold with Chicago's finest, we both were in shock. I was definitely not going to make it to my own shower on time. When someone finally came on the line, we were told that our car had not been towed because we had reported it stolen around two in the morning.
What?
We explained that we had not reported the car stolen, we had only just discovered that the car was gone. The dispatcher said that the car might have been recovered, and suggested we come to the station. My husband called my parents' house and my sister answered the phone. Before he could explain, she said she was on the other line and that someone would call us back. Disgusted, my husband shot back:
"Well tell your mother we will not be coming over because OUR CAR WAS STOLEN!"
That got her attention.
Dude, where's HER car?
Without a car, we decided to take the bus to the police station, but as luck would have it, we saw no bus. We started walking hoping the bus might still appear, but we ended up hiking the whole way. For Chicagoans, to give you an idea of where I waddled to, we walked from Six Corners to the Jefferson Park police station, right near the train.
On arrival, we talked to the officer at the front and eventually were told that our car had been found abandoned in an alley. They told us that an officer would drive us to the spot. Off we went, I was sweaty, tired and resembled a whale, and rather than opening bibs and booties, I was in a squad car looking for my car.
Unfortunately, my car was not in the alley. It wasn't in any nearby alley at all. As we returned to the station, there was my car, in the police lot. Nice to see those tax dollars being spent on the Keystone Cops...
They took my Rolaids, dammit!
With my car in view, I had high hopes. Maybe I'd make it to my shower after all. As we reached the car, we saw that the window had been shattered and the steering column was ripped apart. Officer Helpful showed us how to get the car started with a screwdriver and left us to drive away.
After clearing the broken glass off of the seats, my husband got the car started. We had gotten a few blocks away when the car stalled, the lovely thieves had driven my car until the gas tank was nearly empty.
Hubby had some trouble starting the car. A few police cars even passed us, not stopping to investigate a man in a car with shattered windows trying to start a car with a screwdriver. Chicago's finest.
Morons.
At this point, I was beyond stressed. I was tired, upset and had heartburn. I reached in my glove box where I kept my pregnancy survival pack (a book, my reading glasses and a big bottle of Rolaids, and found that not only had some waste of human life stolen and pretty much destroyed my car, they took my glasses, a pregnancy book, my glasses my denim jacket that I had left in the back seat.
The icing on the cake was the other thing that was missing, they took my freaking Rolaids. Steal my car, ruin my baby shower, but why take my antacid? Ever meet a sleep deprived, stressed out, pregnant woman with heartburn and nothing to take for it?
And more fine police work...
I did make it to my parents' house a few minutes before all the guests had to leave. I was less excited about the car seat someone gave me after the day I had. I was tired, drained and felt violated. Why would anyone do this? My car had no stereo, it was old and beat up. It was even parked in a well lit area near an intersection.
The damage to the car was extensive and we ended up having to buy another car to replace it. Being so close to my due date, having no reliable transportation was not an option. One morning, a few weeks after the baby shower, a neighbor knocked on my door. For some reason, the police had dialed her number looking for me. Her last name was not similar to ours, so the mere fact that they called her made no sense.
I waddled to her phone and had no idea why the police wanted to talk to me. I suggested that I call them from my own phone and eventually talked to a detective. They wanted to investigate a car theft. I couldn't believe my ears when they asked about my car as if it had just been stolen. They had no record of our recovery of the car.
Morons.
Epilogue...
A few months later, an uninsured teenager hit our parked car. Nothing like a Chicago winter with your car in the shop. We decided to move to the suburbs and currently live in a nice village on a quiet street. We live a stone's throw from our local police department.
As our newer car sat parked in our driveway last month, someone smashed into it and sped off. A few weeks later, the same car was vandalized. I am uneasy tonight as my car sits at the body shop being repaired. I am wondering whether or not my car will get stolen and lost by the police, or if it will be totalled before I can pick it up again.
We live in a world of morons, people who make my in-laws look like The Brady Bunch. I wonder if Stockholder's son-in-law had anything to do with my car woes...
Be sure to check out the other entries in this write off:
tombarnes ~ ned1 ~ misc_el ~ Ghettofabchick ~ gaelkm ~ Bounty628 ~ fuche_bu ~ Penguinlady ~ fountain-head ~ PacManY2J ~ frostiepekkle ~ Thorbjore ~ dedemw ~ Guile176 ~ small_batch ~ Lorace ~ pambo ~ youngchinq ~ jenb123 ~ Ginzo ~ granniemose ~ atchesonate ~ Beerbrain ~ italiandude707 ~ age6racer ~ HawgWyld~ Imprimis2~ artbyjude ~ stockholder
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jenb123
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I'm tired
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