Yesterday afternoon, the police called to say that they found my car. They asked if I could meet them where my car was found in fifteen minutes. They said that I would be able to avoid the towing fees that would be applied for an impound if I could be there quickly. The previous night, I had spent about an hour regretting the loss of my car and wondering if there was anything I could have done. I no longer wished for vengeance like I had in the previous post. I didn't want to drive a loaner car. And I didn't want to have deal with the increased insurance fees that certainly accrue. I simply missed my car.

My heart jolted hearing that it had been found. Since I was already working on the computer and was already on the internet, I surfed over to Yahoo Maps and found the address that the cops indicated where I would find my car. It was less than three blocks away in the parking lot of another apartment complex. When I got there, there were two cop cars and four officers standing around laughing about something. I approached them.

One of the officers was the same guy who took the initial report on Friday morning, Officer G-----. Officer G----- asked me if the car sitting in the corner of the lot was mine. There it was. It was in the furthest lot away from the road, completely out of sight behind a fenced-in garbage bin. Another car parked next to it had the passenger side window broken out of it and covered with plastic. I identified my car for Officer G----- and inspected the inside of it. Although the inside of the car was a mess, the result of the thieves searching for something of value (and not finding anything), nothing appeared to have been stolen or damaged. Even the change in the ashtray remained. "What'd I tell you," officer G---- smiled, "I knew we'd find it intact." He was also right about it still being in the neighborhood. He said that on Friday when he took the report.

When the other cop car pulled away, and me and Officer G----- went over to his car to fill out another evidence report. I asked him if he knew who took it. He said that he didn't. I signed the report, a copy of which he gave me this time, started my car, and left. About an hour and a half later, feeling curious, I returned to lot to inspect the apartment buildings surrounding the area. I saw that there was still a police car in the lot. Maybe the thieves were still around. Not wanting to get too much more involved, I left--this time for good.

I spent about a half hour driving my car and wondering what I should do next. My girlfriend says that it really does not make much sense to invest in any security features because it is unlikely that the car will be stolen twice (relying, of course, on probability). Furthermore, any investment on my car should be applied towards making it run better. I'd really like to have a trunk monkey, but a nicely worded letter would get about as much return as anything else.

Dear Mr. Thief,
If you steal this car again, I will pee on your cornflakes and shave off your eyebrows. Don't think it won't happen. Me and the Dali Lama are surveilling this alleyway, and while I know kung fu, he can shoot lasers out of his eyeballs. Plus, he turns green when he's angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry.

I guess I still feel pretty weird about the whole episode. It turned my weekend upside down, and now I realize that I'll always worry about my car being stolen. I also realize that there may never be any answers or explanations for why this has happened. I can speculate that it was one guy or two, that it was fraternity prank, or desperate action of a hungry, homeless man. I can waste time guessing, but I have to admit that I may never know who did it or why. As I have already called my insurance company, there'll be more on this situation later.

24 May 2004
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