Sunday, June 24, 2012

Sittin' On Busted Safety Glass

A Random Act of Violence On a Honda Fit Consider my mellow now harshed. 

After attending the Mayer Hawthorne DJ set on Friday at the Pyramid Cabaret, I had the displeasure of seeing the driver's side window of my wife's Honda Fit busted open. Having talked to a few people about this incident, it's apparent that being the victim of a smash n' grab is an unfortunate rite of passage in this city. That kinda eases the pain, but only a little. Naturally, I blamed myself for what happened, and you can't tell me one fucking thing that I haven't already told myself:
Well, why'd you park so far away from the venue, dumbass?
Shit, I dunno. it was a nice night, and I anticipated a frenzied parking situation, so I parked a block away. Is that a fucking crime?  
It's your own got-damn fault for leaving your backpack in the back seat.
First of all, fuck you. Second, am I the only person in history that's left something in a car with the thought that mankind wouldn't mess with it? No. 
Shit like that has been playing in my head for the past 24 hours. They took the RCA cord that we plug our respective iPhones in with, and the also absconded with the cig lighter charger for said iPhones. Really shitty, but somewhat inexpensive to purchase again somewhere down the line. What really stings here is twofold:
The price of getting the window fixed. Don't get me started. This is a very unwelcome addition to the financial bullshit we've had to deal with this year.
My backpack. Gone. Along with my favorite drawing utensils and my barely-used sketchbook. I'd rather they kicked me in the balls instead.

The Stuff In Al's Bag
October 4th, 2010: My backpack and its contents at the time. 

As I've told others, I'm past the emotional point of white-hot hatred and have settled into a begrudging acceptance with a healthy dash of brooding. Right now, I'd pretty much give anything to have the sketchbook and drawing stuff back. The sketchbook is where I kept notes and drew ideas. Yeah, I can think of more stuff, but that doesn't change the fact that I feel violated. At any rate, if you happen to stumble upon it, it looks like this:

New Sketchbook
 
I'd just like it back, no questions asked. Thanks.

2 comments:

Jeope said...

The sketchbook you'd given us for being in your wedding party was part of my backpack contents when it was stolen. My pack that day contained $1800 of contents that day, and yet it was the sketchbook that still stings. That, and the badass sandwich I'd made myself for lunch that day. It hurts that some jackass enjoyed my sandwich.

I hate that this happened. Nobody has messed with our car to date. I still await that rite of passage.

jared said...

man, that really sucks. as the victim of a few break ins, I can certainly sympathize with the feeling of personal invasion, which is one of the worst feelings in the world. whoever did this will have it come around on them, life has a funny way of doing that.