Friday, August 9, 2013

My car was stolen

So, my car was stolen.

It started with a call from the Coffee Queen.

"Where did you park your car?"

"In front, like I always do."

"Because it's not there."

And it wasn't.  We both thought we were losing our minds at first.  It must be there, right?  I mean, who steals a 15-year old Honda Civic?

But no, it really was gone.  I reported it to the the police and a very kind officer came to the house and even flashed the police lights for the Little Scoot.  But he didn't hold out much hope for the car's recovery.  Apparently Civics of this era are prime targets to be chopped up for parts.  So I called the insurance company and assumed the car was a lost.

To be honest what sentimental attachment I had to this, the first (and so far only) car I ever purchased has mostly faded.  Perhaps it's the draw of my scooter, perhaps it's that the Civic is simply old.  It's been a great car, but for me a car is purely a utilitarian object and this one had served its purpose well.  Besides, we'd been talking about going down to one car anyway.  Here was the perfect opportunity to try that out.

Two days later, however, the police call.  My car has been found a whopping three miles away.  The next day I'm able to take a look at it in the impound lot.  It won't start, but the thieves broke the hood latch and so there's no way for me to determine why.  So I authorize the insurance company to tow it for repairs.  There the shop determines the problem: the battery has been removed.  And again, all I can say is really?  There's value in car battery at least 6 or 7 years old?

So the battery is replaced, the hood latch repaired, and finally I'm able to drive it home.  It has the date and time written on the windshield, as the police do when they tow an abandoned vehicle, looking like some kind of automotive scarlet letter.  I drive it a few times like that before the Coffee Queen is kind enough to scrub it off (Windex works).

So now the car is back, sitting in the driveway and waiting for me to get around to cleaning it, more from the latent dog hair than its ordeal.  And I'm still shaking my head at why anyone would bother to steal it in the first place.  I'm sure if it had been newer or worth more I'd have been more upset.

But a late 90s Civic with over 150,000 miles.  Really?

No comments:

Post a Comment