I came across your act of urban douchebaggery earlier today and was not pleased. Not only did you smash out my passenger side window, you rifled through my car and attempted to steal my stereo. But instead of stealing it, you merely broke it and left it disabled. Now the CD I burned for my mother with Crystal Gale and Buck Owens tracks is stuck in there for the near future, my stereo a broken coffin of slide guitar riffs and lyrics about love that’s above and beyond the call of looo-oo-ooove.
I wish you had contacted me before seizing on my vehicle. If you had simply knocked on my door and said, “Dear Madam, I am about to violate your personal property, is there anything in that car you can offer that would keep me from committing such vehicular trespass?”
I would be delighted! I would offer you my selection of mix cds which you also seemed to have passed over, a veritable font of what I listened to in 2003! There’s Beyonce! Gwen Stefani! The Killers! Sean Paul!
What? R&B does not whet your appetite? How about my Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits which I didn’t burn correctly so you can’t choose different tracks and you cannot skip through but really, why would you want to?!? It’s Fleetwood Mac!
But yet you overlooked these treasures,
broke my window and walked away, a few ashtray pennies richer (but you forgot last year’s Monopoly pieces from McDonalds–that could be worth something! All I needed was Illinois Avenue… and every other piece available.)
I hope you are happy with these small trinkets and that when someone scavenges through your car in the wee hours, you know the pain of finding out that a thief has discovered your 1998 Destiny’s Child album and thought, “This is worth its weight in gold! CASH 4 GOLD!”