Open letter to a cretin
Wednesday morning (just 48 hours after nearly losing my home and most of my worldly possessions).
To the unspeakable bastard(s) who broke in to my car Monday night,
How could you do it??? I come to my car, only the night before full of everything precious in the world to me, ready to go to work to be with my team, and I notice, strangely, that my glove box is open. I think, "gosh, that was careless of me, leaving that open", and I start reaching over to put it all back in. That's when I notice the huge pile of glass on my back seat. And the smashed in back window. And then, most horrific of all, the great, gaping hole in my center console where my stereo used to be. My eight year old, back lights don't work so you'll never know what station you're on unless you use my presets, purchased with my entire bonus in 1995 stereo. That's when the tears started. Yes, you useless piece of human garbage, you did what the damned fire couldn't do, you made me cry. After three nights with no sleep and the fear of losing everything, your senseless, stupid act was the last straw.
It wasn't until several hours later that I realized the full extent of what you'd done in your little infantile crime spree. I put it down to the lack of sleep and the confusion about what was where in the house because of the packing and unpacking, but it was when I was sitting in the chair at the insurance adjustor's office that I realized that my gym bag had been in the trunk and wasn't now. My gym bag. Containing my trusty running shoes, my training log, my training jersey (can't be replaced, and is probably gracing the bottom of a dumpster), my Teva sandals, my Nike athletic sunglasses to keep the sweat from pouring into my eyes while I walk, my fanny pack, my Walkman CD player and about 10 workout CDs, my Clarins sunscreen for children (keeps my sensitive skin from getting irritated), my Balance bars, my favorite ball cap (Andersen Consulting, also irreplaceable), and my Body Glide. You won't be able to make a penny off of most of this stuff, perhaps the Walkman and the glasses. My shoes are thrashed, having put in 200 miles with me since August 16. My Tevas hike on the beach with me all the time, and there's sand embedded in the soles that just won't come out. The training jersey? I caught one of the sleeves on a prickle bush last week on a 12 mile walk and it's got a tear in it.
Of course, I had also shoved several other items in there when I grabbed it to evacuate on Sunday and that's where you really hit the jackpot. Among other items (including my passport, an expired drivers license, receipts from my last business trip, and both my and my ex husband's birth certificates) was my VLSCI company credit card. Yup, you sure got lucky there. What did you do with it, oh infinitely smart one? You tried to get a cash advance with the wrong PIN (not surprising, since there is no PIN associated with that card), you spent $11.75 at Exxon Mobil and $2.89 at the 99 cents store. This is according to the very nice lady at Wells Fargo that I talked to as I was cancelling the card and setting it up so that the next time you used it and a merchant requested an authorization, the card would come up as stolen and your little joy ride at my expense would come to an end. You have no idea how much the idea of you sitting there in a pool of cold sweat makes me happy. How does it feel, Cretin? Does your head fill with terrible images of jail and court costs and the look on your mother's face as they haul you away? GOOD! How dare you do something like this as the acrid smoke chokes every nook and cranny of our county? Do you have no morals, no sense of community, no qualms about victimizing someone who is already being victimized by Mother Nature? I guess not.
I have a couple of final thoughts for you. One is that I really do hope that none of your family members are threatened by the fires that continue to burn. As much as you've hurt me, you haven't taken away my belief that most people are decent and good when given the chance to be, and your family definitely doesn't deserve to be punished for the insensitive act of a no account Cretin. My second thought comes from Chris, my darling Sweetheart, who says that you should just hope that he never, ever finds you. He doesn't have the same love of humanity as I do and he is boiling over with rage at what you've done. He's a big man, he works with his hands (the legal, honest kind of working with his hands, not the cheap, chickenshit kind that you do), and the only thing as strong as his love of family is his hatred of all those that hurt those he loves. Be glad there's 2,600 miles separating you from him.
In closing, my car is in the shop being fixed up good as new, with a brand new stereo (thanks for that!), and I have a rental car which is totally paid for by my insurance. I have no credit cards for seven business days but that's honestly a pretty good thing given my propensity to overspend. I have a warm house to sleep in, people that love me, and the comforting certainty that everything will be OK. The possessions that you stole will be replaced and my life will go on much as it did before. The scared feeling in the pit of my stomach will subside with every day that passes and I will be stronger for the experience. I almost feel sorry for you. Almost.
The Girl with the silver Saturn