You stole MY car and all you left me was this stinkin Dixie Chicks CD?!

Ok, so I suck at blogging on a regular basis. Let me catch you up. Since my last blog, my car was stolen, along with a music collection that I've been compiling for over 10 years. At first, I didn't know which one I was more upset over having been stolen. Then, I gave it some thought and came to the harsh realization that my love for music is challenged only by the stubs that God gave me for legs. Add in the factor that NM has no real public transportation, and the lack of money I had to replace the car I saved for 3 months to get, and you can assume which item was going to afffect my well being more.

Anyhoo, I know what you're thinking..."Why would she leave her music collection in the car!" Well, I don't have a good answer for that other than I didn't exactly plan on getting my car jacked that day. But not to fret, this dirty criminal left me one CD I found flung in the back-seat.

But I digress. When I walked outside, I had the initial instinct that I must have parked my car in a different area,. I would assume that most people think this when their car gets stolen. Then, the moment was gone and I realized quickly that someone had appreciated Hunter's beauty, my 98' Honda Civic the way that I do, except they didn't just buy it like I did one month prior.

I called the cops, whom immediately scolded me for calling 911. That's right, apparently, in the state of New Mexico, you should ONLY dial 911 when their is a murder being committed, witnessed, or you see someone drunk driving. If I'd had been in better spirits, I probably would have alerted them to the fact that I felt capable of murder at that very moment. In speaking with the police, they asked me if instead of sending an officer over, could I fill out a report on-line? No. Not only no, but Hell no, I replied.

Apparently, the response of the cops in NJ spoiled me into thinking that's how every state handled things. WRONG. How do you know when a state is poor? The schools suck (they DO) and there is no police presence (unless you're drunk driving and Erik Estrada is whizzing by on his motorcycle during the 100 days of Summer). I no longer wonder why locals refer to this place as "The Wild West".

Ok, so about 2 hours later, an officer shows up, ignorant to my panic and tears, assuring me that my car was probably halfway to Mexico by now. So I go to work, sullen and defeated. Telling my co-workers the crippling news of my car theft through muffled sobs (of COURSE I'm still dramatic, I am from NJ).

And you want to know what happens then? My work phone rings, not even an hour after i get to work telling me that they found my car, it's running and in the mountains about 30 minutes from where I am. At first, I thought they MUST be mistaken. But no, this operator had just the right amount of nastiness in her tone when I expressed bewilderment, that I knew she was telling the truth. She informed me that I had 15-30 min. max to come pick up my car or it would be towed and I'd have to pay $300 to get it out of the impound. How ironic that they expect you to rush to pick up your car when it's found after being stolen, especially since you have no car to get there.

Needless to say, I got a ride out there, and there was my baby. Bruised but not battered. Hunter was so happy to see me, and me her, that we embraced as soon as I saw her sitting there, at the bottom of some trail in the middle of nowhere. Turns out, the idiot criminal just needed to get across town and used poor, defenseless, Hunter as the vessel.
The two deputies from this ho-hum town I'd never heard of explained that this kind of thing "happens all the time". I inquired as to the status of the manhunt I was sure was launched to find the person who stole my car, only to find out that there would be none. I was told to "count my lucky stars" that the thief had left it abandoned and running, which appeared odd to a hiker who called the "cops".

So what did the thief leave me as a token of apology you ask? Out of over 100 CD's, I found the good Ole' Dixie Chicks alive and well shining like a jewel as the only thing left in my car. Someone, please remind the Universe to bestow gratitude to the car jacker in NM who left me the crappiest CD in my collection as a reminder that he or she's not ALL bad. It's fine now, I have my car and sleep like a baby. Why? Well, I went out and bought the poor man's alarm system, the CLUB. That's right, back off when you see the yellow sign promising "theft protection", and all for $15.99!

If only I'd known that I was going to be robbed, I would have done three things different. One, I would never have called my mother after calling the cops. The first thing she said to me was "Why didn't you have the Club on it?" Which, of course made me even angrier, mostly at myself, because I'm 28 and STILL learning things the hard way. But also, at my Mother, who NEVER misses a chance to state the obvious. Second, I would have never stole that bottle of Fire & Ice from Rockbottom when I was 12 (karma is a Bitch)! And lastly, I would have definitely gotten that bum drivers side window fixed so that someone who needed a ride across town couldn't have just slipped their arm in and opened Hunter's lock. Lesson's learned. Car's returned.

Of course, I can no longer listen to the Dixie Chicks, understandably so.
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