Since my Twitter posts to here I'm sure everyone knows what happened already. That's the main reason I bothered setting one up, after all, to collect random thoughts and dump them out here when I didn't feel like writing up an entire post. But, yeah, my truck was stolen this week.
March 15th, I came home just like any other day. Nothing worth mentioning at all, except that I ran a load of garbage out to the dumpster that evening since the sun was only just starting to go down. This was the only event, up until around midnight or so, that made it memorable at all. My upstairs neighbor called down to me and we had a short conversation about the abandoned car that I had parked next to. We discussed possibly calling the cops to tow it, since the apartment hasn't done anything about it and it's been sitting there, taking up one of our few parking spaces, for nearly a year. It was nothing major, but enough that I knew for certain exactly where I had parked. And, of course, that my truck was still there at sundown.
As you can probably gather, when I grabbed my laptop bag and headed out for work the next morning, it was no longer there. Sometime during those twelve hours someone must have snuck in there and snatched it. There was virtually no broken glass, so I could tell that they didn't bust out the main window like before...my guess was that they took out the triangle vent-window and somehow unlocked it from there.
Perhaps surprisingly, the first thing I said when I found out was "thank God". Thank God that I hadn't yet gotten my income tax back, and that I subsequently hadn't sunk thousands of dollars into completely renovating it as I had intended. Thank God that I wasn't driving it at the time and hadn't lost it at gun or knifepoint. Thank God that I had just escaped CMI, that shithole where I was only getting paid half of what I was worth, and that I now had a job where I'd be able to cope with something like this. It'll still be pretty damn tough, but at CMI I was barely making it at all.
Speaking of work, I went and emailed my boss to let him know I'd be late if I was able to come in at all. The cops were next, though they didn't actually show up for another hour and a half. Thank God I wasn't being raped or murdered.
When the fuzz did show up, they took some basic info and that was it. Name, address, phone, type of vehicle and time I last saw it. He didn't seem too worried or concerned...if anything, he appeared a bit bored. I was about as calm as someone could be given the circumstances so I suppose it put him at ease, not having to calm down someone frantic and upset. Either that or Mobile cops are completely inept and don't give a damn in general.
The guy took his notes, then told me that one of the Detectives should probably get the paperwork sometime the next day. I looked at him quizzically when he said that. I could only reply with the obvious: "You do know that within 48 hours, the truck will already have been chopped and distributed." He just said that, yeah, that's what they usually do - chop 'em up and ship the parts. Then he again said that they'd start looking for it sometime tomorrow as if it really didn't concern him at all.
It's annoying how nobody cares about their work anymore. I get frustrated when a minimum-wage burger-flipper gets my order wrong, or a waitress blankly wanders around like a mindless zombie just going through the motions. When the cops show a similar work ethic, you can't help but feel a little hopeless.
I hopped on my cell and shot a message out to everyone I knew, asking them to keep an eye out for my truck. Should stand out in a crowd. Then I started looking up rental cars and used car ads. All you can do in life is play the hand you're dealt, so I didn't spend much time looking back at the things that I couldn't do a damn about.
Long story short, or at least slightly shorter, getting a rental was a nightmare and a half. With us being right here on the coast and it being Spring Break that week, every rental car company I called was completely out of stock. Most were even rude to me when I called, as if I would dare ask the car rental company if I could rent a car. Things then quieted down for a bit till a buddy of mine came over to keep me company since he knew I'd be down. It was then that I got the call from my mother.
Turns out someone out in Chickasaw found what was left of it. The Truck had been stripped of everything of value and dumped in the woods behind his house. Of course, they could care less about the 1979 pickup body; what they were really after was that huge, heavily-modified drag racing engine. The guy who found it called my folks because he found an old insurance slip from where I was still crashing with them however long ago that was. I guess it's good we found it, but when Mom said she had good news and bad news, she raised my hopes so very high for only an instant when she said my truck had been found. Perhaps she didn't mean it as a lie, but the full truth was that they found the frame and the tires...with everything else gone, it'll never run again.
The next day, sometime before lunch, I finally heard from the detective. He had no clue about anything, reasking the same basic questions that the officer did a day prior. With no leads and no information, he said he was going to randomly start poking around some of the bad areas in Mississippi until I informed him that we already found all we were going to find. He seemed astonished, and I continued to tell him all I had found out already in regards to my "case" and then asked him if there was anything else that I could do for HIM.
Sigh. That man was useless. If it was even a man at all...sounded more like some kid. I would try to call him again a few days later with more info that I uncovered, but I think he was dodging my call. The receptionist kept patching me through to him, and others overhearing the convo said that yeah, he was back there, but eventually she took my name and said she'd pass him a note "once he gets back in". (I never received that follow-up call. Twenty bucks says the closed my case since my truck was no longer missing, they closed the case - completely disregarding the fact that I was only the third truck to be broken into that week and that whoever's been going on these self-serve shopping trips late at night is still out there.)
And I suppose that's about it. I think my Dad towed what's left home this past weekend while I was out of town, but I haven't been home to go see it yet. I've been to a few used car lots, but nothing's captured my eye. And whatever I get will have to be pretty spectacular...my old ride was nothing short of a local landmark, and the only silver lining here is that I might have an opportunity to trade up for something nicer. Even if it wasn't according to my own plan.