An Open Letter to the People Who Stole My Car

To the People Who Stole My Civic:

I apologize for wishing you unspeakable harms as I followed the flashing lights of the police car to the abandoned grain elevator across from the railroad tracks on the Southeast side of town. When I jimmied that white plastic thing into the black plastic thing dangling from the skeleton of my steering column in just the right position so that I could actually start my car with my key, and not a screwdriver, I apologize for imagining your slow death from exotic infectious diseases. And I’m sorry for implying any incestuous activities in regards to your mothers as I picked through the cigarette butts, trash and drug paraphernalia you left in my trashed interior. It obviously wasn’t your fault. It appears that my Honda Civic is the “most stolen car!” as people have been excitedly telling me every time it happens to come up that my car was stolen. It is as if you have vindicated this random piece of trivia they own. They are so excited to prove their wisdom to me: See! You have one! And it was stolen! I’m right! Yay me! So I apologize for being mad at you, car thieves, since apparently it wasn’t up to you, it was entirely the fault of my car for existing in the make and model as such as it is.

However, I do have a few words I’d like to share with you. Please, if you will, lay down your crystal methamphetamine or crack cocaine (if, indeed, after leaving your plastic tubing in my car, you are still able to manage to carry the smoke from its heat source to your lips). I can’t even begin to start to understand what you were thinking. In a well-lit parking lot, for which I pay a hefty $45 a month, you decided, of all the vehicles available, to steal my car. No, I’m sorry, it wasn’t your decision, it was decided for you, as I have “the most stolen car in Washington!” Congratulations, car thieves, my car was the first ever stolen from this parking lot. Who knows, maybe they’ll reduce the rates? Wishful thinking, I’m sure.

Additionally, you left some credit cards you stole. I’m leaving them with the Sheriff’s Department. Feel free to come by and pick them up there.

I also have to remember to thank you. I was scheduled to work 12 days straight. But thanks to my car being stolen that number was reduced to 11. Mondays are evil, but thanks to my car being stolen, Monday was a free day off. Who cares if it was spent talking to the police, driving to the most godforsaken part of town to recover the scraps of my vehicle, and talking to the insurance company for hours? Plus, thanks to the excitement and the resultant catharsis, I got the best night sleep I had in weeks.

So, car thieves, I’m sorry I wished you maimed, hurt, dead, or worse. I hope you enjoy my speakers, stereo, dashboard controls, chargers, iPod adapter, and my dead dog’s ear fur I saved in a little leather pouch. And that Stella Star CD was my favorite, I’m sure it will bring you much joy, as will the four or five mix CD’s my friends laboriously assembled for me on various holidays and birthdays. I also hope your hands are soft and cocoa butter sweet thanks to the Bath and Bodyworks lotion you now own. I’m happy paying for a rental car for a week to a few days. And, hey, if the insurance company decides they have to total my car, then I can thank you for allowing me the opportunity to buy the best transportation $1200 has to offer. Awesome!

(images courtesy of Google images)