I am always up for trying new things. I really believe all that junk about how I only have the one life to live and so on. So tonight, I got to ride in the back of a police car for the first time.
Sorry, though, that's the coolest part of the story. What happened was I was sitting on my floor trying to figure out how to make my vcr record things, because I am very slow where technology is concerned, and also at least 10 years behind. In the midst of this my doorbell rang, and I thought, "Score! Someone's come to visit me!" And I admit that when I opened the door and saw a rather attractive policeman standing there, my first thought was something along the lines of how they make porn that starts like this.
He asked me my name and we verified that I was the one he wanted to be talking to, and then he said, "So, your car has been broken into," and I stared at him as though I was at a party and had just realized we were wearing the same dress. He had to be kidding--I just got the stupid thing fixed last week! Sadly, he wasn't kidding, and my passenger window has been smashed. But hey, Mr. Cop, bonus points to you for tracking down my address and coming to find me so that I would know about it. (Minus points, however, for telling me all the ways someone could try to steal my identity with the things in my glove box. Don't scare the single girl, man.)
We decided that we should go to my car, which was a couple of blocks away, and he offered to give me a ride if I didn't mind sitting in the back. Mind! It was the best part of my week. As we were leaving one of my neighbors was coming up the stairs, and I could see him thinking "Oh man, there goes that troubled girl on the first floor again," so I tried to explain. I don't think he believed me, not when I got in the back of the car.
A very nice man living in his van that was parked behind my car had called the police for me, and he told me good luck and God bless, which really doesn't seem to be happening. This has been a vaguely poor week and I've been feeling a very light shade of blue, and at this exact point in the evening I'm wondering if it would make more sense to cover my broken window in plastic and draw attention to the great big hole there or to just leave it and hope for the best. The glass people will be coming by tomorrow afternoon to fix it, and I'm back to jumping at little bumps and thumps all around me.
I am, as they say, at a little bit of a loss for what to do now.
Dear jerks who broke my window to steal my stereo:
It's broken, you jackasses. Has been since Tennessee.
me.
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