My wife and I had a wonderful weekend. With the clear blue skies, we collectively made a decision to attend a baseball game in the rare sunshine of Seattle, Washington. Consuming the proverbial hotdog and nine dollar beverage, we didn’t care about the outcome, because if you go to a game expecting your team to win, you will be disappointed as well as igniting a marital dispute. Therefore, you enter the beautiful stadium with the correct attitude. You don’t care about anything but having an enjoyable evening, watching a game you love, and hoping your car doesn’t get broken into. Everything worked out swell with the exception of our car being broken into. Sadly, it was in the middle of the night in our driveway.
Returning from SafeCo Field, my wife and I arrived safely to our home filled with two large, very protective watch dogs (most of the time) and one angry cat. They bark and meow when the wind blows. This was absolutely the very first night of my career living with them when I wanted them to bark and they didn’t.
Waking up at five thirty in the morning on a beautiful sunny Sunday, I noticed some strange looking items in our driveway while I was grabbing the Seattle Times. Only wearing boxer shorts, risking that I was the only man in the neighborhood waking up this early on a Sunday, I thought grabbing the paper from our porch was a safe bet, but if I were to venture down to the driveway to examine some sort of evidence in said driveway, I should probably put on some shoes. Otherwise, I am confident enough to go shirtless. I have the abs of a SEAL.
Upon inspection, I found it odd to find three items strewn about in our lot: a Sport’s Illustrated, a jacket, a roll of toilet paper, and a few tennis balls. These are all items I keep in my backpack when we take our dogs to the park. (The toilet paper is for me……I don’t like those dirty bathrooms at the park.) So, now, inspector Gannon has two questions for himself. Self, was I sleepwalking, or is there something rotten in West Seattle? Indeed, there was something rotten in West Seattle. Something rotten had two legs, two arms, and is very lucky our family was sleeping.
Our car was ransacked. My backpack was gone, and there were papers, Cd’s, gum, and dog leashes tossed about in an even more disorganized fashion than how I had left them. It was an old and dumb school violation of my family’s property.
Purely out of respect to the criminal, we filed a report, knowing the police would not show up to ask questions. I understand that. However, if they were to show up and ask if we could describe any evidence which could identify them, I would respectfully say, “Officer, the only thing we know is that he or she isn’t very smart as they didn’t take the most valuable items in the car . . . namely the Willy Nelson, Jimmy Buffet, and Doobie Brothers CDs.”
Our family wasn’t harmed, so I really didn’t care, but I do miss my backpack filled with toilet paper, some tennis balls and a jacket they didn’t even want. What a snobby thief. I swear, the raccoons raiding our garbage cans on a nightly basis are far more intelligent. They also are polite enough to show up to our door and ask to do it. My response would be, “Fine, I don’t care. There’s nothing in there I care about but those three CD’s.