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Location: Rochester, New York, United States

I'm suddenly at a loss for words.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

CSI: South Wedge

On my desk sits a pile of empty CD cases. I longingly restack them, read the covers, re-check to see if the CD Fairy has visited.

A couple months ago, some Fucking Crackhead broke into my car and stole all my CDs. Luckily, it was a nice Fucking Crackhead and he gingerly used that "jimmy" thing to pop the lock instead of smashing the window. I was halfway to work and searching for a CD when I noticed that they were all gone.

Oddly, I noticed the weird red goop all over the inside of the passenger window while I was still in my parking lot. Barbeque sauce, I deduced. Somehow that made enough sense in my early-morning mind and I didn't investigate further. Then I realized that the Barbeque sauce was really blood and that I should go ahead and get into full panic mode.

The police lady expertly calmed me down and helped me put things into a clearer perspective. I think it went like this:

ME: So do you think I should wait to wash my car?

POLICE LADY: *pause* Huh?

ME: Well, I don't want to disturb any of the blood.

POLICE LADY: *pause* Huh?

ME:
You know, for any DNA testing. . .

POLICE LADY:
Psssht. Stolen CDs? Yeah, honey, we have real crimes goin' on in the city. I ain't sendin' no forensics team out to investigate, mmmm'kay?

ME: Oh. Um, OK.

POLICE LADY: *mumbling something under breath - I think I hear the words "watching," "too," "much," and "CSI."*

They sent me a copy of my police report, but I haven't heard of any major sting operations lately. I am beginning to think that maybe the police aren't going to find the guy who did this. Or are even looking. Or even looked, ever.

Seriously? Who did this Fucking Crackhead know that was going to buy a few Chris Isaaks, the soundtrack from "Phenomenon," a Nick Drake, and some copied collections of love songs from an old boyfriend? No joke - this was the third time someone has stolen my copy of "Simon & Garfunkle: Concert in Central Park." Once the sun went up and he looked through his booty, he probably slapped his forehead with frustation and disgust.

I hope it was with his injured, bloody hand.

LESSON LEARNED: One CD at a time & make sure it's really lame - so if anyone does steal it, the joke is on them. HA HA!

Wah.

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