Thursday, June 30, 2005

To quote my husband: Greasers*!

My car has this annoying habit of not locking properly if it gets too wet. I'm not talking just rain but if I drive through a few too many gigantic puddles. Typically this only happens about once or twice a year. The electric (or should it be electronic?) locks simply do not work. There's little that I know to do with this situation except to be careful. I try to ensure that everything of value is out of the car on those occasions and I make sure I put the club on as well.

And, as anyone living in Winnipeg can imagine, this happened last night.

It was fairly clear this morning, as I climbed into the car, that someone had noticed the unlocked car and felt this was an invitation to them. Everything was dumped out of the glove compartment and the console was open with its contents scattered about the car. Nothing (as far as I can tell) was taken. The ironic thing was (is that an appropriate use of the word ironic? I'm never quite sure) that the little holder with change still contained all its change.

It's interesting to me how this brings out two such varied emotions:

Anger: How DARE you enter my car! How DARE you make me feel awkward driving to work, imagining that someone was sitting in there while I was sleeping. What exactly is going on in your head as you rifle through my personal stuff? Are you at least feeling guilty?

Humour: (I recognize humour is not so much an emotion but I'm not sure what other one fits because I didn't feel happy per se.) Oh you poor, poor thing. When you entered into this car last night I'm SURE you thought you'd find SOMETHING. A cd, a camera, some cash, a cell phone... SOMETHING. But no. You ended up climbing into MY car. Old cassettes that no-one (well, except maybe my sister) but me would even WANT to listen to. A small container with some bandaids in it. An old pair of shoes. This still makes me smile a little. What a disappointment that must have been.

But, don't let that smile fool you, next time STAY OUT OF MY CAR, Greaser! Didn't your mother teach you better than to mess with stuff that wasn't yours!?

* Greasers is basically his universal name for anyone a little on the shady side.

5 Comments:

Blogger Heather said...

Yeah, they are greasers! I know that feeling of discomfort when someone you don't know or trust has been in your space.

On a lighter note - so glad we're bonded in our fondness for whatever's on those old tapes! And that bondedness will bring us back to our annual pilgrimage NEXT WEEKEND!!! YAY!

11:01 AM  
Anonymous ccap'sboy said...

See honey, I told you before...there are greasers EVERYWHERE!

11:15 AM  
Blogger Michele said...

I'll never forget the time some people actually STOLE all the stuff from our car and later got caught. The police had to take a photo of Rob holding all the stuff for the future court case. I saw Rob up against the wall in the police station with a load of crap and began laughing hysterically... made everyone else kind of uncomfortable, but the memory still makes me smile.

11:46 AM  
Blogger Linda said...

We arrived home in early January after a road trip to Southern Ontario to find some of our household items in the snow. It seems that a couple of greasers were scared off by one of the neighbours. Although they took my wedding and engagement rings, they also tried to steal 2 speakers which were so big (they were built by Wes' dad in the 70's) that they wouldn't even fit into a car trunk. Made me wonder about their I.Q.

9:18 AM  
Blogger Eric Postma said...

Those greasers came and visited my car a couple of weeks ago. Except the door was not conveniently unlocked. They rifled through my personal stuff, tried to take my stereo (they were too pathetic to actually take the thing) and made a mess in my car. Of course they decided to enter by smashing my window! I figure if you're going to break into my car, at least have the courtesy to take it for a joy ride and smash it into a tree or something. Greasers!

9:08 PM  

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