I ran out to get cat food and then to the Market Of Choice just to grab some Ramen Noodles and Yogi Calming Tea to have a quick, cheap snack at home with a friend in need who stopped by.
I was going to go to yoga, and do some homework for the 3 classes I am taking this semester at PSU, but your violation of my privacy and peace of mind upended my entire evening and probably my weekend after I’m through sorting out repairs and replacements.
You were probably scoping the parking lot for people like me who felt safe and believe they live in a nice enough neighborhood where they can leave their home doors open in the afternoon or run in to get a few groceries, like me: with just a cell phone and the necessary bank card to travel light and not have to lug in bags in order to take more heavy bags out. You were probably in this particular grocery store lot because it’s kind of upscale, with hard-working people who drive decent cars in a good community.
You probably think I was just some little rich bitch who could afford to have her well-maintained, red Volkswagen Rabbit broken into and not have it take any serious change out of my bank.
You were wrong, jackass. I’m a newly married, 1 year resident of Portland. I’m a college student and I keep my things nice because I pay for them and honor the work and balance it takes to maintain an orderly lifestyle that is not beyond my means. And it’s not the pride in the car – I paid extra money to buy a Tri-Met pass so I can ride the bus to school so as to NOT drive the car everywhere and it can’t be replaced – it has to be repurchased. The unfortunate thought is, some derelict dipshit like you would happily ride public transport for free on my dime, so they don’t issue me another one for free. Thanks a lot, you freeloading douchebag.
It took me nearly 9 months to find part-time work for a psychologist. I got the job on my birthday and it was a gift after I had a car crash and minor surgery all last year but came out healthy and happy and back into the work force. After you broke into my car, I was timely enough to cancel my personal credit cards and freeze all activity on my credit report before you tapped into them. But that didn’t stop you – you took the business card belonging to my kind, socially and ecologically sensitive and responsible boss. You took a card, that with my job so new, it wasn’t even in my name yet. It belonged to the woman who worked there previously and I used it mostly to buy flowers for the office. You cleaned out the checking which subsequently withdrew further into the linked savings account. You stole not only from me, but from someone who you could probably stand to see for emotional and psychological help, you morally depraved social miscreant.
Damn shame your absentee mother was an emotional suckhole when present and didn’t love you enough to teach you right from wrong and your father was a treacherous carbon-based life form, soaked in alcohol and permanently affixed to the living room chair when he wasn’t getting a ride home from the police. Everybody hurts, bitch, and your suffering is not special and the world doesn’t owe you a seat-warmer in a snowstorm. Your beginnings aren’t your only road map, you have the ability to toss the shitty hand you are dealt and to overcome – especially in this country. You have the power to decide if you’re going to turn out like Nelson Mandela or Charles Manson. Seems like the wrong people are in prison, but some people still manage to embrace life and not take it. You have too much leisure time. You need to work, contribute, make sense, make love, build and fill your life with meaningful people instead of robbing people in order to make your life easier, you lazy turd.
I know times are hard. I know jobs are scarce. I know people are hungry. I know it costs more than a quarter now to call someone who cares . . . but you stole not only my important IDs and cards, you took paper and snapshot memories of trips to Rome and to the British Virgin Islands. You took a moleskin sketchbook I have carried all over the world to write in and jot notes of things I want to read and learn about. You took a dog-eared paper copy of our wedding vows that I carry with me to remind me, to be grateful and to think back on the beautiful day my life changed and moved forward in love and companionship in this crazy world. You took fortune cookie papers from dinner nite’s out, letters from friends, reminders and receipts, my favorite lipstick and a very functional nylon, waterproof purse my husband bought for me as a gift before seeing the Blue Ridge Parkway on a beautiful Summer day in Virginia. I am glad I have my memories, my health, and my husband – the cards and IDs can be replaced, but you took some very important keepsakes, you heartless bastard. There was $5 in that Japanese paper wallet I received from a dear friend for my birthday many years ago. You should just send my bag back to the Market Of Choice, minus the one card you went shopping with. Do one thing right in your whole worthless life. Lucky for me, my old driver’s license was in my wallet so you don’t have my address. You do, however, have some handsome pictures of my husband. An intelligent, kind, respectable man who works for a living and provides a comfortable, stable life (unlike you and yours) and whom I carry in my heart and carried with me wherever I went until you took the wallet with the pictures. I want those back too, you greedy fuck.
I’d hoped you bought some diapers and groceries for your family or paid some medical bills or fixed your car or bought some presentable clothes so you can find a job. I’d really hoped you didn’t waste it on frivolous bullshit that most people buy whether or not they can afford it. But you went on a little shopping spree at Target, The Auto-Zone, Sears, EB Games, Fred Meyer and Safeway, Radio Shack, plus a few other random nonsense places ranging from $75-$400 a pop. Really? Your vacuous, emotional needs were met at a video game outlet?!?! I hope that purchase was for the child you never spend time with. No – I take that back, I hope you spend time with your child.
No – forget all that . . . I hope you haven’t reproduced at all. Shitty examples of humanity shouldn’t be replicated and populated into more window smashing, thieving-ass fools.
I am stung, but acknowledge that I must be more vigilant, that my senses were telling me not to park there; that you were probably the creep pretending to talk on his cellphone but were actually just swimming between cars like a shark looking for prey. I described you to the police and the car you parked all retarded and cock-eyed. Here I was, worried you would back out and ding me, but you were more the hit-and-run type. There’s security cameras monitoring the parking lot and though I neglected to memorize your plate, if that WAS you, the cameras and backup have it. I did manage to remember that big, dumb cranium of yours and so will they . . . in jail.
It’s all on video too, fuckhead, and a CD his being burned for the police investigator, as is the record of all the store locations by number that you essentially “robbed” in your route. Soon enough, total frauds like you are going to go down the hard way. Despite the senselessness in random acts of vandalism, theft, murder and general fuckery in the world, I still believe in the positive nature of the universe. I have witnessed that there exists a beautiful chaos and a balancing system in which the practice of goodness is paid in kind and the asshatery practitioner loses the head to put it upon. Living like you do, especially if you cross the wrong person, and you will, this all leads to inevitable consequences and death, and death is the ultimate equalizer. I trust you will arrive there well before I do, you miserable prick.
But it’s all good . . . your ignorant, selfish act has reminded me that it’s ok to lose things and that I will still survive. That it’s good to take stock and periodic (or in this case, forced) downsizing once in awhile is a necessary regulating system. I am reminded to unclutter, to simplify and to cut unhealthy, unnecessary attachments that don’t serve me. I don’t need “stuff” to be happy or to live. And that even after my mood, my day, and my organizational flow are turned on their respective heads, my husband and friends can strip all the worry away and take me to dinner to get my mind off it all and prove I can still eat and sleep well knowing I am thought of, respected, and loved. This is more than you may ever have. This is the emptiness you try to fill with “things” that never will. This lack is what drives you take what isn’t rightfully yours. This is where your skewed sense of value ruins your life. This is more than likely, your fucking problem.
No matter how many windows you break, how much you steal, how many people you wrong, how many places you go, how many times you start over, you will never get over the mountain of lies you tell or out of the rotten, bottomless place you dwell. Not until you join the civilized, sweet part of humanity. The part that doesn’t take from each other so weightily that it causes them to suffer. The part that gives, even to a fault. The part that honors the idea that we are the keepers of our brothers and sisters and we lift ourselves by lifting them up as well. The part that strips it down to the basics, and points out the blessings and is grateful for the people that try, even in thin times, to comfort and feed their loved ones when they realize that something has been taken, but all is not lost.
I know you won’t read this. I know you don’t give a shit, not really, else you wouldn’t have taken such a careless shit on my day. You wouldn’t have smashed and dashed like a common criminal. You would’ve kept walking and kept waiting and kept hoping for a change in your life or imagine it – get out of the twisted, polluted, self-absorbed cycle you’re mired in and do something the fuck about it. You, sir (I guess this by your string of purchases) don’t deserve the honorific, courtesy title of a man and are truly lost. And I hope that you are found.
By wolves.
